The Unfinished Poet - Revised again!
My essence. My Joy/Tragedy and perhaps the Worlds..upon my death all are done.
|What Muse doth guide my rapid strokes,
to seize upon my mind?
For each and every word I write,
another lies behind
Every word, each phrase is pounded out
upon the sparkling screen
My fingers of their own accord
so lightly trace my dream
As I then read the end result
in consternation peer
Were these the very words I wrote
why’s not their meaning clear
Now with changes carefully made
and great frustration fraught
I reach perhaps a point in time
"the essence I have caught"
And yet upon another hour,
another week or year
Upon these very words I gaze,
again they are unclear
Is it these words, are they at fault
or I who cannot see
For they are surely just the same
so maybe it is me
A Tear for me, if you please
Some patience and your time
For tempted am I now you see
To rewrite this very line!
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