by Patrick

I race to the line
The ending divine
Break through the tape
And then I awake

Sit up with a frown
Slowly glance around
My eyes stop on the screen
Now imagine I turn green

Lift up my view
Decide to start anew
Get to a lull
Find it too dull

To give up on it
Just wouldn't be fit
Leave it a mess?
Surely, you jest

Want to give it power
Spend hour upon hour
Let the words flow
But I just don't know

Then, in defiance
I sit at the appliance
"Let it come!" I decry
I open one eye

I should have known
Nothing new's grown
Do I have the ambition
To bring it to fruition?

The blinking line mocks me
Ungluing my epoxy
Breaking down my will
I'm heading uphill

I think that I start to sweat
This time concentration won't abet
I feel a bit like a buffoon
In this weird rendition of high noon

The computer makes its draw
As I stare into the maw
In surprise, I pull my gun
Incredulously, I realize I'm done

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