Pants of lines in stanzas
Overheated in inky freezers
Enter through the white page:
Twisted words the simple hardly gauge,
Rolling his eyes like drums, rolling
Yet, wondering at the poet's penchant

Poetry! Oxygen to it's deliverer!
Orgasm of his excitement
Ever extreme in creativity's craze
Tell every soul he lives on poetry

I am that poet
And I live on the acrostics

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