I want to write a poem about singing,
but I can’t—
then I would sing the poem.
I want to write a poem about love,
but I can’t—
then I would cry over the poem.
I want to write a poem about dancing,
but I can’t—
that would make the poem dance on my screen.
I want to write a poem about water,
but I can’t—
it would make me long for the poem to be water.
I want to write a poem about flowers,
but I can’t—
that would make me doodle roses and daisies over my writing.
I want to write a poem about laughter,
but I can’t—
that would bring happy tears to my eyes, and I’d forget about the poem.
I want to write a poem about humans,
but I can’t—
that would make me angry and merry, but I can’t have conflicted thoughts while writing my poem.
I want to write a poem about grief,
but I can’t—
then that would make the world all too real.
but I can’t—
then I would sing the poem.
I want to write a poem about love,
but I can’t—
then I would cry over the poem.
I want to write a poem about dancing,
but I can’t—
that would make the poem dance on my screen.
I want to write a poem about water,
but I can’t—
it would make me long for the poem to be water.
I want to write a poem about flowers,
but I can’t—
that would make me doodle roses and daisies over my writing.
I want to write a poem about laughter,
but I can’t—
that would bring happy tears to my eyes, and I’d forget about the poem.
I want to write a poem about humans,
but I can’t—
that would make me angry and merry, but I can’t have conflicted thoughts while writing my poem.
I want to write a poem about grief,
but I can’t—
then that would make the world all too real.
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