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Greg Obrecht
Poems
Jan 2014
I'm Not Real
You don't see me true.
Rotting from the inside out.
My eyes are a clear blue.
A pretty soul I am without.
A dummy's head with a smile.
My demons ripped me apart.
Please talk with me a while.
My heart's an apple so ****.
Can you see the wiry strings?
Pulled by chosen oppressors.
Whip and beat until it stings.
This is my only true pleasure.
Eaten alive I'm almost gone.
Consumed by a kindled fire.
Will I witness a new day's dawn
My situation is beyond dire.
Written by
Greg Obrecht
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