The frogs are screaming
Inside a soup party
A vision for the useful
The spirits are back.

Below the pillow
Lies the apron's eye
An undercover bully
Jumping and kicking.

The smell is real
Like pressure in a bottle
A muted motive
Like a dummy dance.

The river burns violently
The comatose arrives on top
Generals going below
The Lions are smiling.

Voices standing on one leg
Like the voice of an orphan
Choke and choke above
Ghost everywhere.

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This Poems Story

Sometimes, the truth is hidden for too long.