Nine (an acrostic poem)

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Now what are we going to do?

I liked counting to ten

Now we can’t without bringing up the senseless cannibalistic murder

Evoking the horrific time when seven ate,,,

Sink (an acrostic poem)

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So you feel like you’re going to go under

Icy hands of doubt and self-loathing pulling you down into your personal abyss

No way should you just accept what is happening

Keep on treading water and keep looking for the shore.  You’ve got this!