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The Amatuer

Flowing down the page
Running through the lines
Fleeing from the cage
Of syllables of five

Racing from the pen
Coming from the brain
Cannot find my zen
Oh no, I'm stuck again

The phrases don’t work
The letters don't form
Now I see a smirk
From a teacher less than warm

Suddenly it comes
What I had before
Then the teacher hums
The poem I adore

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