The Struggle.

Struggling hard to write a poem,

But nothing flowing through my mind,

A pen and a paper grasped in my hands,

But all the ideas seemed to have been banned,

With a heavy sigh,

I decide to reconcile to my fate,

Oh but wait!

A thousand ideas suddenly start flowing,

All scattered but glowing,

In my mind,

Now like a jigsaw puzzle,

I have to align,

All the ideas,

To touch several beautiful hearts and their minds.

Grasp

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