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Oh screw my former emo stuff. This is a bit of a return to the dark side of my poetry. A little not-so-apocalyptic type thing going on involving a plague that quickly spreads. In the end, it does go away and life starts again. Basicly I'm saying history repeats itself. I was bored in math class today, had 20 minutes to myself, and decided to write. I kinda did scare myself a tiny bit when writting this. Not saying it'll scare you, but, hey, what are ya gonna do?

Submitted:Nov 25, 2008    Reads: 137    Comments: 7    Likes: 5   


From an illness at birth,

Or from a rat's bite in the past,

Even riding on the surf,

The plague strikes at last

People coughing up blood,

Not knowing if they should have fled,

Bodies piling up in the mud,

The plague brings the axe down on man's head.

The world is quickly emptying,

Only some surviving,

The humans couldn't be seeing,

Why the world had to be dying.

It happened before,

And it happened again,

The plague soon became no more,

And nearly won when it began.


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