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★★★★★ (1)
Rated: E · Poetry · Writing · #2282835

A poem I wrote while listening to harry Chapin


My somber
sleepless eyes
grimly grows
out their ghastly
guiltless gaze.
Dwindling
down into
a desolate
doleful daze .
As they graze
against my
immoral mirror
and it’s molded
misshapen maze
of shallow
shattered
shaded shards
of shame.
That only
I am left to blame .
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