I'm taking a crack at poetry, if that is not fairly obvious. If you don't like semi-rough drafts, I suggest you run and hide. (Nervously inserts head into bucket)
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The Steel Fist
The young fellow erupted,
Head-first from Earl Gray.
The young fellow corrupted,
Boiling skin that scared me away.
The young fellow smiled and shimmered,
My fingers outstretched, just to touch.
The young fellow’s eyes were no dimmer
Than a small spark, or something as much.
The young fellow slowly chilled,
And steam arose from his form.
The young fellow eyes now filled,
And my heart was suddenly born.
The young fellow opened his arms,
Sharing a most honest grin.
The young fellow’s power of charm
Convinced me and drew me on in.
The young fellow’s duty was to confound,
This was, at least, my impression.
The young fellow changed, still, and had me spellbound;
My soul was to be his possession.
The young fellow made motions to stab me,
I caved under fingers of steel.
The young fellow proceeded to grab me,
Like a fish, now caught on his reel.
The young fellow keeps me here,
Caged in my prison, his fist.
The young fellow cannot hear
When I shout to protest and resist.
The young fellow knows I am blessed,
For I have survived his affection.
Yet still, here I reside in this nest,
And shall stay here for my own protection.
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