For every word I can’t say,
I try to write it down,
but at the end of the day,
I know I’ll never find the words.
They jumble together,
like the sunset’s melting colors.
For every excuse I make,
I know what it’ll take.
Time.
However I’m impatient.
I wish the words would flow,
like a stream going into a river.
And for every thing I wish for,
I know I’ll be tired always,
hoping for words better than before.
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