To Megan

Firm hands, from shadows on the wall.

Firm no’s, from girls around nightfall.

I promised to protect you all. 

 

Don’t touch, These artifacts are rare.

Don’t look, It’s really rude to stare,

But these shadows don’t seem to really care. 

 

Please, stop! I’ll ask you once more.

Please, help! Vous n'ětes pas mon amour,

And she is not your little French whore. 

 

Don’t cry, Over the pain of the living.

Don’t think, You should be forgiving. 

For these shadows aren’t among the living. 

 

Please Megan, I am so sorry.

Your eyes, they look so starry.

You are a gem in the quarry. 

 

I lied, monsters under your bed,

They’re real, but they’re on top instead.

Megan, don’t think there’s nothing good ahead. 

   

This poem is about: 
My community

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