Water In The Ganges

Pens run out of ink

Pages in a notebook

Can’t capture what I think

No matter how long I write

I always miss the purpose of the thing

I can’t seem to place

What I really mean

I try really hard

Try to show what I see

Try to describe my little world

Try to relate what I be

Tools to communicate

Roll from the tongue slippery

I paint the central focus

But I still miss the key

Further I describe

This story had a point

I’m a little lost

Then I quit

I guess the way I feel is a mystery


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