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Frustration
an agony unable
to create
anything powerless
to capture
the something shadows
the raw
emotion of being
like
answers that flit
from view
insubstantial
impossible
to snare
I sit in
snarls
futile
impotent fingers clutch
a full pen
stubbornly
withholding
its thoughts
an
infinity stretches
lined and
white and empty
waiting
: tabula rasa
this
whispered challenge
to forge
legacy
are you up
to it
can you
face
the
gauntlet of creation
the
discipline to shape
a life
to make
when faced
with infinity
how will
you efface
the
onslaught of the ordinary
how will
you answer
the only
question:
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