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I wrote a poem about life,

and it jumped off the page.

Screaming and kicking,

so full of rage.

 

I tried to embrace the poem,

to comfort it’s pain.

It pushed me away,

my efforts in vain.

 

It said, “You don’t know me,

why now do you crave.

You never appreciated me before,

and now you are my slave.”

 

Its words cut into my soul,

and now I reminisce.

I guess I never knew the poem,

as much as I knew this.

 

His enemies are youth and time,

for both I thought were free.

I ran from one, and hid from the other,

now they caught up with me.

 

I knew that I would pay the price,

this poem was here to tell.

How he could be like unchained bliss,

or the fire of living hell.

 

“I own you now so don’t fight,

no word can win this duel.

You had me under complete control,

until you played the fool.”

 

“If you knew my enemies as you said,

you would have taken heed.

Now be a man and take the pain,

and suffer for your greed.”

 

I tried to run but could not flee,

for life was very strong.

A shame I wasted youth and time,

and did my life so wrong.

 

 

 

 

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