Deformed
At times I’m in a rush
and out my words will gush so fast,
but when the surge is past,
I look and o alas, the form
did not come out the norm.
And then my brain will storm anew,
so this is what I do.
Though ideas are few, I try
to set my ideals high,
and out the words will fly again.
Okay, it’s fine so then
I will end the poem when it’s done.
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