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Poetic Asylum

I’m haunted by it, the could haves and the should haves; Silent yet screaming; So I stay locked in my head writing it all out in prose; Straight jacket just tangles me so I rhyme so I can be hushed; Hands bound together circles worn into wood floors, my mind remains free; Pacing inside this padded room really all you need is noise; So I scribble all of the white walls, disfigured art in this poetic asylum.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2022

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