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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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