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Process
- asasser
- Jan 7, 2016
- 1 min read
Random thoughts
Random words
Random little gems or turds
Creeping in
Tumbling out
Pouring sure and lacking doubt
Take them down
Set them free
The poem is what it’s meant to be
Frenzied now
Fevered pace
Filling in the dead white space
Cannot stop
Wouldn’t try
Emotions bleeding; let them fly
Slowing now
The final drop
Is coming soon; I’ll have to stop
Finally out
Finally done
The page is full, the words have won
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