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M
My name
Is an assortment of letters,
Perched upon
A white page,
Along with words
That define me.
And yet,
Each time,
I seek to slink away,
It stalks me
And traps me
And holds me,
Till I give in.
A call, a note
Or whatever else
And I am back again.
And yet
What would I be
Without my name?
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