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Pounding heart
Rapid breaths
Sweat running down her chest
Her mind races, full of regret

She should have never let it in
From the closet of shame
It tempted her
It hypnotized her
She became helpless and dazed
Lost in his spell she now lays, paralyzed in fear

It's demented world of things not for little girls, ruined her in many ways
And the thought that she let this happened, haunts her days

At night, she cannot sleep
Because she knows, underneath her bed
It grows

Stronger and stronger
The longer she hides It the larger It grows

But she cannot move, she cannot leave
It now owns her
She is It's
Evil deed
Creative Commons License
Some rights reserved. This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
:iconringwormbettie:

Author's Comments

You probably can guess what this is about. It isn't so much about a personal experience as it is about an idea, a "what if" sort of thing.

I hate writing poetry but sometimes I just get a line in my head and end up going with it. :p

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April 12, 2007
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