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Sep 12
What a tiny nuisance is she
She, who is confined inside my cage
Her mischievous whispers echo
While she clutches my heart again

She plays upon my lungs
Pressing all of the black keys
Passionately like a pianist
Making it difficult to breathe

She giggles oh so playfully
As I wince from my chest pain
She mocks me with excitement
As though we are playing a game

How imaginative and innovative
Constantly spewing out new stories
Creating story plots out of broken pieces
She is the writer of my worries
Anne In Wanderlust
Written by
Anne In Wanderlust  F
(F)   
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