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Late Night Poem Writing: So Many Words

So many words and so little time.
The words fly from my thoughts,
Right through my finger tips,
And onto the page.

Like music, the words sing their song.
Their silent song that pitters and patters,
Traveling all through the night,
As I write my story.

This is my story and none can stop me.
In this world I’ve created,
I am a god. The god who decides who lives,
Who dies, and who creates thus from naught.

It’s beautiful. It’s powerful.
It’s dangerous and rivetting.
Such power drive some men to do terrible deeds,
But for me, it’s just second nature.

There are so many things I long to say.
So many words and so little time.

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