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★★★★★ (1)
Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #2036381

A syllabic meter poem with a countdown effect asking a vital question.

When I lose my heart
to melancholic
void, when I find that
color leaves the world
it puts me to shame.
Flavor banished,
all vigor fled,
humor does naught:
To be distraught.
So I turn
and I search.
A question:
I am.
What am
I?
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