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I wrote this poem when I had writers block. |
| I think to write then crumble Scribble all my lines Throw paper balls at the can They would miss and tumble But never again I think to write and then crumble Tired as it is My wrist must struggle This angered pen No longer bleeds ink Creativity is not oozed out Like most people think My poem is not done Though almost complete Just two more lines To stop the beat |