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whenever i haven't had enough time to dedicate to creative pursuits and, as a consequence, feel my creative instincts have withered somewhat, that's when i write poetry. (also, when i'm "excitable" or "edgy" or any of those other words that serve as a code for "i have no attention span".) i find it's a way of getting myself writing without having to burden what i'm doing with too much structure.

of course today, i set myself the challenge of writing a poem with rhyme, which is something i've never done before (or at least, not as an adult). and below is what i ended up with.

the end result is a little too similar in sound to sylvia plath's "daddy". subject-wise and tone-wise it's different enough and it's not like she's the only person to use that rhyme scheme (and even then, she uses it irregularly), but my own admiration for that poem is strong enough and well-known enough that denying its influence would be futile.

so i'm left with this little thing, which would probably remain in my vault untouched until the end of time except that i'm giving it a little portion of internet space in which to exist and be seen by others.

Scrutinised fully
A heart that’s unholy
A face made of lies
Smiles untrue
And whispers temptation
Conveys indignation
And promises nothing for you
For you
How unlucky now
To be you.

What once seemed endearing
Has always been veering
To a black sea
Of sludge and of goo
No wining and dining
Can quell the great pining
For the baby
Who changed into you
To you
The soul that calls out
Now to you.

That memory unfettered
Of a moment together
In passing before you outgrew
The pleasure of others
And saw they were smothered
In the lightless trench
Left to be you
Be you
The shelled snail we’ve
Come to call you.

That warbling song wafting
To your ears is the laughing
Of the visitors
Come to your zoo
But no amount of attention
Can forestall the destruction
Of the hologram
That claims to be true
Be true
Who passes to others
For you.

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