to be perfectly honest, i figured fortune would strike before inspiration wore thin. teach me to figure.


i need me a mood to compliment
my choice of words, to give rhythm
to my meter and bring a background
to my poetry. but i lack a mood.
altogether feeling-less perhaps due
to the busy. perhaps due to the
grind, where i’ve grown comfortable
and rather enjoy myself. feeling very
little other than a longing to continue
and perhaps have a few minutes for
a smoke in the process.

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