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This poem is essentially about my constant struggle to find the right words/expression to have the effect that i desire. I encounter this problem in almost EVERY piece i write and i'm rarely happy with the emotive stimulation my final works have when i read them back over. Ironically after writing this poem i actually DID feel content about getting across what i wanted to say, which is a rare occasion. Enjoy.

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Dreaming of stability,

I felt a feeling fill in me;

Like I was full of an ability.

But with no feasible capability

Of speaking my conscience to the easel,

I felt impeached by my own mind.

No matter how reasonable amount of time

I spent trying to find a feasible kind of output,

My goal was unreachable this time,

And it left me feeling feeble

Despite the original stream of consciousness

Making me feel gleeful and full of confidence.

Now my once monstrous cognizance

Has been set in scale by my cognitive incompetence,

And consequentially my self-confidence is dominated.

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