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Perma Cringe
These feelings in my mouth
Make it hard to speak.
Sour and acidic
My face becoming a perma cringe!
I would swallow my words
But I fear death would be ,
The end result.
I cannot breathe dread and
Anxiety take hold of me.
I grow pale;
And pray you can read
My thoughts, and see
The things I would not
Say.
I’m not at ease,
And am one breath away
From spitting out a curse!
Copyright ©
Charles Pullen
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