An Itch to Scratch

What are you, but an Itch I cannot reach?
A dark poison, flowing so slick, carefree
Psychological warfare, please don’t preach
Begone!The pain in my neck, leave us be!
Little Hippie you, get chained to a tree
You act fake all-around, staining those near
Oh What shall we do? Toss you to the sea?
Before I leave you, take one souvenir:
Your dead heart, so I can go without fear. 
The sleepless nights, the happy days, all gone now
You can’t be fixed, not by an engineer.
Free but not found, I no longer bow down. 
Though I wish you had a warning device, 
Now all is good, here in my paradise. 
 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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