Blasts From The Past: The Clichéd, Clunky-Rhythmed Poetry Of Me As A Thirteen-Year-Old

I have no shame.

 Trawling through my bedroom, I found some work I did as a thirteen-year-old in my school's creative writing club. It's both terrible and hilarious, and I felt a need to share it with the world, for some obscure reason. Feel free to add your own embarrassing discoveries!

The End

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