A poem

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The shadows
They don't seem so dark anymore
What is fear
When they hold me dear
So close to my dead heart
Yet my hands are warm
Yearning for murder
The dead are now the living
The living are now the dead
How do you feel, the roles reversed
Welcome to my game
No escape
Little puppet
Stay still
Dance on the window sill
Those beady black eyes
Dead or alive
Say goodbye
Sing my lullaby
Children start to cry
Scream and suffer
Hate one another.


-Sunday 17-3-2019-

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