She told him she wasn't real,
In the sense she was unable to feel,
She was the devil, a soulless soul keeper,
A heartless life reaper,
But he did not run, not yell,
Instead he sat looking perfectly well,
A tear then trickled down her cheek,
The only one who made her feel weak,
Was the only one she was unable to do wrong,
She'd known him so very long,
So she left,
Disappeared,
Not a trace of her anywhere,
So he concluded his greatest fear,
She was only after his unproven soul,
She saw him no different than a greed driven ghoul.
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@dylan23
Hey, I'm Dylan, a (newly) 15 year old artist who also loves poetry. I live write and draw in a city called Preston and I'm currently working on my art GCSE, which I've spent most of the year stressing over:'D What do I do in life? Generally, i draw, watch doctor who, and write, poems that is. I'm shit with stories;'
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