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Jul 2018
Desolate:
Barely illuminated by the street light,
A dark figure stands,
With its hood up,
Looking into my bedroom window.

I wait for it to more forward,
To begin its expedition,
In murdering me.

But it does not move an inch,
As if to taunt me and say:,
"Stop looking."
amber
Written by
amber  20/F
(20/F)   
453
   Cheeto
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