The Monster

The monster lives inside me,
He slithers through my veins,

He hisses his cruel thoughts,

and influences my own.

He wraps himself around my lungs,

cutting off my oxygen;

He wraps himself around my heart,

shattering it to pieces;

But my blood still flows

from the broken heart

through the contaminated veins,

The blood circulates:

darkened, and burning;

The blood is my sadness and my pain

 

This poem is about: 
Our world

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