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It's downing on me I try more to write, But my ink is dried Then pen becomes heavier Like a mighty sword; My palms gets sour, Even my lips are glued, I can no longer speak Words flow against the best And lost in the rhythm Without any meaning. There are no more lines, The stanzas no longer rhyme Many words in my mind, But the heart is bleeding Of pain I cannot bear. Many words in my book, But it's full of empty pages Shall these linger for ages? 🖊️John Bemshima Benedict
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