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- Non-Erotic Poetry
- The Terror of the Head Snatchers
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The dark of the room where you lie in bed
Turns from pitch blackness to a crimson red.
Your little head shall be at rest no more.
Shadow beings open your closet door.
You hear the door creak as you lie in bed.
They take you from bed to take off your head
In your bedroom closet where they reside.
At dawn your family will learn you died.
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