Within the longest hours of the day
Trying to make the keyboard obey
The mind goes on a different path
Placing me in an inexpressive wrath
I try to collect these thoughts unseen
And find myself taking in more nicotine
The laziness overt
My brain now inert
And spilling out dirt
Where’s my lucky shirt
Perhaps if I could find an idea machine
It could keep these lines out of the latrine
Instead here is my humdrum warpath
Leaving ennui like a ring in the bath
I think poetry may not be my forte
Fine this time for I must dump my ashtray
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