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Poetry-a different kind of addiction. |
| Exciting and scary at the same time Who knew I could make emotions rhyme? It will only last for a day This strange new phase of wordplay It's useless to me, it's not my skill It cannot triumph over my free will It started like that but now I dread That annoying block that gets stuck in my head Without that word--I'm at a loss Why do I care about getting a feeling across? Something to pass time, the usual excuse To grasp a pen and release its juice It's happening again, as I fill this page I keep giving in to this temporary stage How many have I created? I have lost track I'll say it's over, but I know it will come back Nothing that I was searching for It's just a hobby, nothing more... |