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Apr 2017
This mask is alive in follows my soul,
Surrounding my body my friends and my home,
This space inbetween us decreases with wind,
The world sitting under us hiding within.

This mask is electric its forces are strong,
It shuts up my mouth and its rubber so long,
It changes my stature my face and my life,
It colors my soul and it preaches my sight.
This mask is a darkness,
Foundation of light.
It seeps through my irises and seems unpolite.
It causes me anger and stress and a fire.
This mask is a cage after all I'm inspired.

Its vacuum is black and it tears me apart.
Valueless words and valueless art.
It hides all the worth and replaces demand.
If I'm Michael Myers then you're Spiderman
Sweet Poem
OblertPumpernikle
Written by
OblertPumpernikle  27/M/United States
(27/M/United States)   
597
   Book Thief
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