I was born. I did things. Now I’m here. Scientist by day. Metal singer by night. Game Master.

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8/2/22

cryptid in july poetry day 20, the black eyed kids

 

a poem about the black eyed kids

black eyed kids are able to view all things equally
they are not obsessed with any one thing
unless sarcastically

they have the ability
to scream in agony
while maintaining a neutral facial expression
and calm body posture

they forgot where they were buried
and return to the wrong hole
unable to enter the earth

there should be a specific word for this disappointment

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