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May 2010
One child, two child, three child, four
Who could that be, knocking at my door?
Smoke creeping through the crack
Thick like a fog, can't find my way back.
The poison weaves its way around me
Crawling up like five leaf ivy.
*****, putrid, filthy, mean
Love how it's glowing that hypnotic green.
Their eyes are red, I know they're hooked
Can't get enough of how it looks.
Love how they smile, love how they sing
Love how their actions make my heart sting.
Dancing around me, grinning like *******
Trying to coax me with their laughter.
I refuse! I refuse! I refuse to ****!
Why don't you see you're making me choke!
Keep on whispering in my ear
Keep on ignoring that one small tear.
I swear I won't listen, I'm not going to follow
I see your face and it's hard to swallow...
You finally give up and the smoke uncoils
All of you leave; to the victor go the spoils.
I wrote this. It's an anti-**** poem. Please don't steal this and PLEASE don't post this elsewhere unless you ask me.
Brianna Sutterfield
Written by
Brianna Sutterfield
782
     Brianna Sutterfield and DJ Thomas
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