First Draft
The best I can do,
Is often the first,
Attempts to improve,
Will likely be worse,
The punch thrown in a dream,
Where noodly arms waver,
Or carbonara sans cream,
Incomplete; lacking flavour.
Too many ideas swirling around,
Or is it a chasm; too few?
It matters little as no sense abounds,
It immidiately all goes askew.
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