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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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