Poem-morbid

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Whisper into my ear
and scream to me that you'll be here

Pick me up and thrown me down
and watch my heart slowly drown
Bound to you I am, like the devil's command

Your glaring eyes, always watching my back
Making my heart a nervous wreck
Trapping me into an endless black pit
only you know where I sit

Crawling back to you I come
like the Beacon's everlasting drum
Consumed I am by you, once again
My heart tearing shred by shred.


the lines that are underlined I need help with because they sound awkward, also if you have any additional comments to my poem, you can say them as well. As of yet, this poem has no title.

thank you
-sara
सारा मेरा ज़िंदगी मैं माल असबाब छिपा हुआ




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Ah...this belongs in the poetry forum, not in Storybooks. :*flags down a mod*:
ohmeohmy




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Indeed! I was on it too lol. But, I can only move poetry...
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Seriously, this is not a storybook. Do you (talking to sar_a215) even know what a storybook is? *Chuckles* Maybe we can turn it into a storybook.
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*Moved to Other Poetry*

...and locked, since there is a duplicate somewhere else.

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I was flummoxed by fractious Franny's decision to abrogate analgesics for the moribund victims of the recent conflagration. Of course, to display histrionics was discretionary, but I did so anyways, implicating a friend in my drama to make the effect cumulative. I think a misanthrope would have a prosaic appellation, perhaps one related to autonomy and the rejection of anthropocentrism. I think they wouldn't think much of the prominence of watching the coagulation of tea to prognosticate future malevolent events, not even if those events were related to jurisprudence.
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