I found a bag of words, each, on separate bits Of paper, all but two in Different ink, which are Without doubt the title.
Days to nights to weeks, Passed, I puzzled pieces Of this literary jigsaw, at Times I was exasperated. A phantom fictitious poet.
Anon.
Ps.
This poem may or may not Be as the original composer Intended it to be. It was not An easy task and I have no Idea how many permutations Of the arrangement exists.
I am not even sure if I can Claim copyright as I did not Create the words I merely Assembled the text. I would Like to see other versions. The punctuation is as was.