Poem 2

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It creeps into the bedroom
It flies amongst the clouds,
It wears a sordid paper mask;
It fools you with it’s shrouds.

It beats around the paper-weights
And knocks them on the floor,
It festers in the darkest corners;
It destroys what you adore.

It slumbers in your laundry mat
To make filthy what is clean,
Then jumps upon your hidden fears,
To tell you what it means.

After it has fooled the fools
And boxed away it’s toys,
It wanders off to kill again
To work it’s evil ploys.

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