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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Psychology · #1412607
I'm not really emo, but I felt inspired by the stereotype to write this.
The jet black hair of a treacherous eve,
Reminiscent in my merciless rue.
My bloodshot eyes a stoic glare of revenge,
I'm emo, it's dreadfully true.

The ostracized weed amidst vibrant petunias,
Trudging through swamps of seclusion.
The flames of hell hath scorched my desire,
I'm emo, it's no illusion.

How gracious feels not the thick, anguished trickle,
As my grieved silver is drowned in lost hope.
Farewell to the crooks my vessels have harbored,
I'm emo, but I will cope.
© Copyright 2008 Joseph McDevitt (numerotres at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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