Poem Hunter
I Was Jim
AF (3/27/88 / New Brunswick, NJ)

I Was Jim

What have I created?
A monster’s in my skin.
He’s taking over my life.
Turning me to sin.

He’s talking with my mouth,
Using my hands,
Walking with my legs,
playing in my band.

Why won’t he leave?
How did I create him?
Why can’t I be free?
Of this monster named Jim?

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