Sins of the Youth

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It had fallen to disrepair.

No amount of plywood or glue
could mask the evil of its use.
No paint could cover the putrid stench
of the blood left cold, a thirst left quenched.
No body, nor mind, nor fool tender at heart
could spend yet a moment without a play in the part.
No secrets left whispered, no vows left unbound,
it had fallen to disrepair, and not a one made a sound.

The sin of the world, closed up behind doors,
secrets of the youth spun on webs like before
with spiders as keepers and snakes as their guards.
Sins of the youth, secrets of the scarred.

It had fallen to disrepair.
And as sins escaped,
no one was left to care.

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About Mattie J.

My name is Mattie J. Hamilton, and I am seventeen years old. I live in a cute little house in the country in Southern Indiana, and have lived there my entire life. I self-published two books of poetry a few years ago, but I much prefer writing fiction of poetry, journalism, or any other sort of writing. I'm somewhat new to the blogging world, and I may come off as a bit of an ameteur, but hey, I am an ameteur. Proud of it. After all, I'm just a kid, and I have plenty of time to learn.

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