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Arithmetic of Poetry
I was writing a poem,
Sappy, sad and sympathetic,
Of me doing something,
Really pathetic.
Something totally simple,
Just describing in words magnetic,
Erased it all,
It being not at all aesthetic,
Wondering why I still do this,
Making feelings look apathetic,
Isn’t all the world just a myth,
And all of us just a hypothetic.
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