This Poetry is Bad; Pasta is Good.

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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.

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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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