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Doulble acrostic poem for Writer's Cramp. |
| My life goes by in an endless hum. Acclimated now to a darkened aura, Depressed and uninterested Never finding hope, only pain. Each and every day I bravely embrace. Sometimes they let me pass. Sometimes they are glass. Wondering all the time, how? As each eye is a lens of a camera, In each of them I find an alibi. Tomorrow I will not regret Something I cannot confess. |