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Wooden Rhino

By , Hyattsville, MD

Stop! Stop! Stop!

Stop those miniatures T-Rexes from colliding in my head

Leave me and my mediocre  style to my hand 

Stop telling me I am not special 

Now, I am 15 years in tangible grim

Trapped and slaving away to disillusionment 

Meet the contemporary monsters

I wear costumes right and left 

Always feeling naked,Always feeling exposed

But, clusters and passes of colors live locked in my head's garden

Can I be the blue marker,the green in the forest's verdure,red in the  stand out rose 

Just leave me to die,I will be fine

Playing with the thinning strings in my head ossifies into self-destruction 

I want to be the pen or the marker or the wooden rhino on my desk

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