There it goes, did you see it?
An idea true that came and went
Born from me but never mine to keep
Fleeting as can be
It comes to me, great potential in hand
Only to be twiddled and flicked
mused and poked
Until, finally,
I cast it off with frustration
The words I want to mold
Are never the ones intended
I dream of glorious sentences
Strung together with fine craft
But instead, I receive,
No reverie, but
Depth-less lines of words
With lacking allure
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