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The End of Imagination

In all our haunted houses

Are ghosts just wrapped in sheets

And the vampires and werewolves

Havent been seen in weeks

We diagnosed the children

Who heard voices in their rooms

Now all they do is paint the walls

In crayola crayon hues

And the monsters under our stairs and beds

Seek refuge in our closets

As we boiled imagination down

To vibrations in quartz deposits

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Written by
brass-knuckles-mike
37 / M / American
Published
Jun 20, 2011
Lines·Words
12·66
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