I'll never follow in their shoes,
so what is it that spurs me on,
with tired eyes, ideas all gone
to sit for hours, pen in hand
where thoughts drift off towards a land
of pictures, rhythms, verse and rhyme
and where I lose all sense of time?
Hard to explain the way I feel,
this need to create, so very real
I cannot stop until it's done
and the battle of the words is won.
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