There are two sides to every poem.
I tremble inside.
My brain churns with rattling thoughts,
like a lonesome train
on a midnight run.
I am alone in this surreality.
Your cruel intentions have
dug me into the depths of
polluted and unsettled ground.
Heavy daze and nights
I erase your undesirability
as a school teacher would
wipe clear a chalk board.
Dust forms a film over the
shiny apple I will never give you.

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