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The POET sits on an empty porch
And stares at an empty page
Takes a sip from an empty cup
And feels an empty rage.
His mind feels full to bursting
But nothing falls out of his pen,
He only wishes he could cry
But finds himself empty again.

There's so much he wants to do
And so little that he can,
So he decides to compromise
And simply do nothing at all.

Written: Wed Apr 15 2020