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TKO Jun 2016
Breaths fall short.
Thoughts crumble in defeat,
But the sensation of creation
Still aches to feel complete.
A chest has no treasure
Unless you have the key;
Tidings creatively delivered
By a verse of fantasy.
Inspiration billows within.
Without the words to convey,
My masterful poésie is still
Waiting for its wave.
Where lack of inspiration, becomes the inspiration.

— The End —