Within this small building a Spirit dwells,
This Spirit, dynamic, is a force that propels
There, the laughter is much and the friends are true,
Whistling while they work, the hurdles are few
But when the day draws near,
Tears replace laughter, and friendship with fear
But the Spirit of the few is strong,
They pick themselves up and keep moving along
For the few who pull through, the rewards are great,
The few stand up proud and illuminate
After the storm, the laughter returns,
But the Spirit, unchanging, had never adjourned
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