Weird I can’t think of what to write,
Like a weird void bringing blank to my mind,
The more I squeeze the darker it gets,
I can’t force a thought more than a smile.

When I get an idea, I actually pull,
Like a little golden ribbon, it unfolds,
All the words are attached even flow.
I can’t find the ribbon.

Just imagine that your whole life you’ve pulled,
Finding ends, middles, and beginnings,
The day when nothing sticks, nothing to pull,
What would you do?

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