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The Parasite

A Poem

By Cynthia WrzesinskiPublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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The demon that feeds us fears and lies

Has set obstacles in front of our eyes

Knowing that we can’t face them alone

Knowing that our body can become its home

Feeling our pain is what feeds the beast

And we let him sit and have his feast

As we cry ourselves to sleep

He knows that’s the best time to creep

Knowing he is doing his job well

Surely we will all end up in hell

If we let the beast inside us sit

The beast will never choose to quit

Feeling the crazy winds from storm

His embrace felt so very warm

When he told me the storm was him

The ocean of sin started to rise

and it became harder to swim.

The Parasite

I wrote this poem back in my junior year of high school. I'm not really sure why I wrote it. Some things just come to me, I guess...

surreal poetry
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