Poem: It Would Be Nice to Be Done

 It Would Be Nice to Be Done

I have spoken about it before,
have said the same things,
tossed little piles of words on the table,
the ones I keep in my pocket,
I have made so many,
have spent hours alone 
bundling together syllables.
It is not fun, but I cannot stop,
though no one asks for it,
no one wants to hear any of it,
I cannot stop.  Maybe if just once
picked it up off the table,
offered a bit of attention.

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