I penned a superficial moment
And lost my train of thought to wistfulness,
My insignificant letter became a torment
And evoked a fit of listlessness.
What was driving my ambition,
In the long and short of it,
Was jogging my innate derision
And cutting up my futile wit.
An aimless script, a submerged episode
Reflect their meaning, like my life
And slowly does the minute erode,
The obvious wades into strife.
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