My Doom, a poem
We are left feeling a constant doom
Which doom
Shall bloom, in my heart today?
No, not today for my doom
Already festered in my heart
Since I let it be planted like seedling
I fed it water and nutrition
Until it sits in my chest, crushing my heart
Leaving a weight of doom throughout my whole being
Yet I keep feeding it
I keep watering it
My constant doom
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