A poem:
The Omen's here, every day,
In my window, on my brain.
The dog he eats at all my thoughts,
and on my bones he gnaws.
He takes anything he can get,
and leaves me to rest.
Leaves me in shambles to mend,
a lifetime full of mess.
A broken head,
Inside a cracking shell.
These walls know all about,
My living, waking hell.
Whispers, day in, day out.
Of the people I always doubt.
They turn the black i feared,
and the omen reappears.
To take all that I love,
in one swift tug.
To pull me down,
to rot in the ground.
My arms and legs are roots,
covering the dusty nude,
the broken, lifeless girl.
Who does not belong to this world.
-Anonymous
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