Many days, through the month
A melancholy feeling rains on me
Forcing emotions that I rarely felt
A total mixture of positive and negative
Inspiration and failure,
motivation and hopelessness
A juxtaposition of many others sensation
Many of these feelings
Causes of a million stories
To flow through me,
through every part of my body
As I dove deeper
More ideas sprung,
Multiple worlds of parallel universe
Start to exist, with every genre possible
So much, I could not handle
But hope was at the end
I could see from all this mess
but at a price to pay for leaving this world\
I could only bring one idea with me
Out back to real life
But as I sat on my chair
Putting thoughts to paper
Nothing came out, nicely or smoothly
Even as it is finish, It did not felt
quite as how I felt,
with every sense just tingled when imagined
Regret is what I only feel through
every unaccomplished work.
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