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Aug 2018
Why does poetry haunt me?
What does it want from me?
It lurks in the corners of my head.
It hides under the bed.

It whispers in the night so I can’t sleep.
It torments, taunts and creeps.

It used to be so innocent.
But not anymore.

I fear poetry is becoming
something I abhor.
**** you, poetry.
Written by
ArielMarriel  F/out there
(F/out there)   
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