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THE NIGHTLY SCARE When I go home from work at night and sit down in my chair, I turn on the TV set to get my nightly scare. It matters not which channel or who the reporter may be, They all trot out their latest fears to scare the devil out of me. I just listen very closely, because I must take care. I don't know how to live it seem, without them being there. Anthrax, airbags, the rising price of drugs; too much caffine, I could be mugged. Unaffordable insurance, cancer from my phone, I might lose my job, or even my home! Someone could use my credit card, or steal my identity. Oh good grief, it's much too hard to imagine another me! Second hand smoke and polluted land, this fear has gotten out of hand. My Social Security could be cut, I feel this tension in my gut. Too much sun could make me sick, or someone could steal my child. To survive this world is quite a trick. The worry drives me wild! If nothing else, they seem to hype syndromes of every conceivable type. Sudden wealth, the latest one-- I wish I had, IT MIGHT BE FUN! There's one more thing I wish to say, (I'll try hard to just be nice.) If they could only see me here I'd give them this advice. Don't tell me how to live my life, Or give your personal views. Eliminate my stress and strife, PLEASE JUST REPORT THE NEWS! |
Additional Notes:
I capitalized where I did just for emphasis!
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