When I first joined Opuss,
Twas a week or so ago,
I just couldn't stop writing,
The juices seemed to flow.
I'd write about anything
That popped into my head.
Then, quite inexplicably,
The creation stopped dead.
I'd read all the other posts,
And to me they were perfection,
A searing account of troubled lives,
The epitome of reflection.
I just couldn't understand
Where my inspiration had gone,
It didn't seem fair,
I wanted to be number one!
Now I realise, as I burn the midnight oil,
That poetry isn't easy,
It requires work and toil.
I'm sorry that this poem
May not make you stop an d think,
But my creativity is entirely on the blink!
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