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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