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What Lies Beneath Me
I lie awake, staring at the ceiling.
The fan spins, round and round.
My eyes suddenly collapse.
“The monster! He’s under my bed.”
Luckily, it was a dream.
I yell, startled by my instincts.
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This is yet another Sijo poem, made with a specific amount of syllables. This Sijo poem talks about the "monsters" that lie under a young ones bed, until he/she realizes it's all just a dream.