The words are pulsing through my veins
and bursting at my finger tips.
They're singing in my head
and dancing close to paragraphs.
Where the hell is a pen?
I'm drowning from my lack of ink.
Focus!
Remember what you thought
it was really good.
How did it go again?
The car screeches to a halt
and I hunt the drawer for that
little dispenser of thought.
I rip the cap off
and throw the tip to the page...
Blank
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