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amber
Poems
Jul 2018
paranoia
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."
#cabin
#fever
#old
#stuff
Written by
amber
20/F
(20/F)
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