Words jumbled up on the page,
Pencil scribbling till the lead wears thin.
Not sure where this poem is going,
The lines will not quite fill up.
The clock ticks as I grab for adjectives,
The sun fades along with my ideas.
This poem never seems to fit,
Nothing inspires me at all.
My room is the same.... not enlightening,
The music playing too typical.
Writing this poem took so long,
All the thoughts took so much nudging to come.
This poem is just a bunch of words,
Words that took all this time to think of
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