The day of presentation
There is no exotic smiling face
Not even a lively plant to greet you.
You are welcomed with confusion
A lonely tree bloodied with red
Dedicated to YOU.
You edited my exhibition.
Each page moves along the spectrum of grey
There is no gentleness to glide around
Instead, treacherous rough woods for you to navigate.
This is not a samba
It is a tango
It is dance of horrors.
You edited my arrangement.
Shocking words that distress
Alarmed by my inaction of action
You moved my punctuation.
Destroyed its line
You misconstrued my sentences
Discarded my words.
You edited my meaning!
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