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I wake with troubled mind
And search the floor to find
My slippers and my clothes
As in my head the woes
Continue from a dream
That made the world to seem
A place of little hope;
I wonder can I cope.
I stagger to the sink,
Run water – boil to drink
A soothing cup of tea
To make the devils flee,
But what is that I smell?
Approaching fires of hell?
And is that rising smoke,
From coals the demons stoke?
From searing flames that roast
The souls with brimstone dosed?
No!……………………………………
………………………………
It’s just my burning toast.

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