This Poetry is Bad; Pasta is Good.

If this poetry was handed out like Halloween sweets it would be those sweets that are actually hardcore drugs that will kill you in three days.


2. Darkness

Mutterings fill my ears
And dark swirls fill my eyes
As the incessant madness fills my mind
I am afraid
Not of the dark
Not of sound
Not of sight
But what I will become
If I stay here any longer


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