every time i'm closing hundreds
i have passionate feeling throb
brushing my whole being, glory
i look at my fingers, i would say
1200 lines, almost 100 yards
then i smile; continue writing
i always have music with me
instrumental i pretend i'm lyrics
i assign a syllable for every note
sometimes i skip with a hum
or muted whistle; gushing air
to sum it up, i'm having fun
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