| We are not born with hate!
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| It’s learned and observed as we grind out our days.
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| Handed down from those held close,
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| the ones we are supposed to trust the most.
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| Sins of the father, continued legacy or learned lesson?
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| No, this must go no further.
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| Scripts handed down to those held close.
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| They’ll be the ones to pay for the path we chose.
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| That angelic child, a perfect prayer in heart,
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| «Let no bad happen. |
| Let no bad happen.»
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| She ran out of her room, tiny soft white womb.
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| «Daddy, please stop hurting Mommy.
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| It scared me so bad when I saw her in that hospital bed.
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| Please, daddy, I’m getting scared again.
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| Say: I love you. |
| Say: I’m sorry. |
| Let’s just go to bed.»
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| Scripts handed down to those held close.
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| They’ll be the ones to pay for the path we chose.
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| That angelic child, a perfect prayer in heart,
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| «Let no bad happen. |
| Let no bad happen.»
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| We are not born with hate! |
| It’s learned and observed as we grind out our days.
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| The coldness of man looked down on innocence; |
| hate blinding his compassion,
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| turned his rage on his child, left lifeless among the presents.
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| Father-given. |
| Son-received. |
| Red flows down the family tree.
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| We can break the legacy of rage;
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| the same evil that lay innocence to waste.
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| Love and forgiveness can break the chains.
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| We must not pass down our father’s sin
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| before they have begun to live, mar our children.
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| Our sons must not inherit our shame!
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| Be the one to turn the page. |
| I beg you. |