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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