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Poem

The world is so crammed of You-s
Frieks that clamour to be on news
Then the lone me
Whose poetry faulters on spelling B.

The world is in replete of us
Wilting flowers in a dry vas
Some shrivel and wither first
Some pulled to entice lovers thirst.

The world is so full of them
Characters of a reality game-
Where life is the main show
And death is the climax goal.
Joy a mere illusion-
And reality an intrusion.

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