Dis is a poem I wrote, but I don't really think it's creepypasta material. So here it is in a blog!

A Poem

I live, I die, I bleed, and I breathe for the fantasy.

So caught up in my vanity,

I don’t realise the fantasy is my own daily demise.

I find myself sitting, feeling so unwise.

Maybe I should just leave,

Just pay my fees.

Maybe I should restart,

Make my way forward through the heart.

Or, maybe I should just stop,

continue to drop.

I’ve fooled myself to believe,

Thinking my imagination I could retrieve.

I don’t want to live, die, bleed, or breathe for the fantasy.

I want to kill the calamity.

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