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Drip, Drip, Drip · Poetry Minific ·
Organised by Anon Y Mous
Word limit 15–1000
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Modern Life
Complacencies chip at my eardrums like nails,
Engraving their patterns as slowly as snails
Or fast as hyenas pursuing their prey,
Attempting to mark me, to make me obey,
To grind me to powder with rages and wails.

The phone when it's buzzing, a sound that impales;
Aggression disguised by the jocular tales
The internet spreads in its righteous display:
Complacencies chip.

Enjoyment? Forget it! In multiple jails,
They lock the apostate who happily fails
But tries it regardless. Impatient, they say,
"Success is the only acceptable way!"
I strive for the daft, for when reason prevails,
Complacencies chip.
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