And the artist’s muse curse
it turned real another time.
I wrote you poems,
knowing the theory well.
Because hey, it’s all games and fun,
who leaves like that?
But then you left.
Right when I realized
every poem I write these days
sounded like your name.
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Author:
Meera Mere (Pseudonym) (
Online) - Published: December 16th, 2025 07:58
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 1
- Users favorite of this poem: Meera Mere

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