Holding onto it like a three year old´s teddy bear.
This grudge so dear, this stubborn fear.
The story is a satelite, outside your mind the earth,
It rotates around venting, transmitting all the worst.
It´s that cyborg zombie that you´ve buried almost a hundred times.
It digs it´s way out, to eat out your compassion and make you feed a lie.
Forgiving is an armour,
god has furnished here in us.
First we must decide to drop,
the grievance and the fuss.
See often we wrong others,
and seldom second guess...
That they have hate for us,
stored in outraged chests.
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