Insistent inspirations;
from all indications.
Ideas that can't escape;
my pen is ready to scrape.
A flood in my brain;
I feel no iota of pain.
Expressions in a clash;
the beauty of a trash.
Poetry is pure pleasure;
intoxication without measure.
I'm clearly high on words;
I'm feeling like a lord.
The persistence of creativity;
a continuance romancing eternity.
A feeling with wings...
I can her my soul sing.
Willingly, I'll write
till the night goes white.
Inspirations without a clog...
you can't pull out the plug.
By Mc Shapiro
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