You dread such moments,
your brain is not your own,
all thoughts seem alien and unreal,
you feel estranged from everyday life,
sans ability to express what you feel.
for times such as these,
nothing at all you can do
for being a wordsmith is your whole life
without that talent, what are you?
Yet there remains a hope
a thin line of chance,
Penpusher by Pen
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