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Writer's pictureEvelyn Creon

Is That Me?


I saw a shadow on the stairs,

While I was minding my own affairs.

It was dragging a bulky object,

So to the stairs I slowly inched,

Full of fascination as I cringed.

My footsteps did not reflect.


I saw a lifeless corpse

I looked upon it in shock,

As my heart began to course,

And a rotting smell rose from its frock.

I only then did realize

That the body was of me.


With blood dripping from my lips,

I lied there dead and rotting.

The sight was abhorring.

My death, from a broken neck.

written by Evelyn Creon

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