Should I expand and write poetry?

I find it difficult to be pleased with what I put down on paper, but nevertheless I’m going to try no matter how hideous it is.

Brain, brain, please shut down,

Your twittering is getting me flustered,

Eyes aflutter,

Lips aquiver,

What am I to do, but drown.

 

Sleep, sleep, it just won’t come,

What am I supposed to do?

I rumble and tumble,

I groan and grumble,

Yet, no way am I numb.

 

At last I feel drowsy,

I’m shutting down slowly,

Pictures fading,

Words abating,

Bliss – so heavenly woozy.

 

Result – not too bad, at least it rhymes. I’ll try again later. It’s a change from writing prose.

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