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The Draft #3
Sometimes i become afraid of myself because my anger brings danger. Its like this almost infinite power that's just rushing through my forearms just as popeye; my anger being the fuel like the can of spinach. Suddenly i become blind to the world as i'm faced with the images of the past. Now, i'm reliving it and feeling all the pain and then suddenly, i find myself drained of all energy, thoughts, and common sence. I'm finding my lack of self quite mordant although i'm morbid
poem
by
Chris Solomon
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