Crisp (an acrostic poem)

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Crunchy salty goodness played footsies with his tongue

Relishing in the dulcet bass tones with each bite

It made getting his fingers greasy so worth it

Still he wiped his hands on his pants before grabbing his Coke

Putting slick hands on a wet can could mean instead of drinking it he would be wearing it

Siege (an acrostic poem)

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She felt under attack during her interview

It seemed that every person wanted to tear her apart, break her

Every time she had five minutes to herself, she almost broke down and cried

Getting this chance was her way to something so much better, but was the battle worth it

Examining her casualties, she decided no. 

Soul (an acrostic poem)

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Sold that ratty old thing on the black market

Of course they didn’t realize what they were getting

Until they took possession.  Buyers beware.

Leaving my red haired head, cracked halo, and broken black wings one PlayStation 5 richer.