Like No One Else
Last night I read
the Poet,
his name was Poe,
who wrote of Death,
like no one else.
His words were like
magic and beauty,
that black cat, was
no joke. Terrible
grief filled my soul.
Poe’s words left
a mark on me,
such darks thoughts
and flights of madness.
the Poet,
his name was Poe,
who wrote of Death,
like no one else.
His words were like
magic and beauty,
that black cat, was
no joke. Terrible
grief filled my soul.
Poe’s words left
a mark on me,
such darks thoughts
and flights of madness.
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