Avhaari's Poo-etry collection by Avhaari | World Anvil Manuscripts | World Anvil

16. The Beast

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My feet firmly planted; my elbows on my knees,

as pressure overwhelming; continued to increase.

My hands clasps each other, no sign of calm nor peace.

My toes they gripped the tiles; I groaned for sweet release.

Sweat beads roll; as oh—so—slow; this monster reached my knees.

All; I can do, is wish for times; of loving memories.

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