Stupid

Flog it until it dies, 

If you are filled with fears. 

Stay atop the problem furiously, 

And haunt those horrid little fabrics, 

The ones that itch and scratch, 

Like malevolent little objects, 

Haunted titbits and tales.

They do give a creed for these beliefs, 

Give a reason to waver a moment, 

Over some unquantifiable folly. 

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