Enthralled with form, the function ignored.
The reason was there, without the rhyme.
Her loss of focus reduced the words
to one of convenience in limited time.
The question nags her to voice her concern.
She hangs her head no longer to worry.
The gift neglected, in moments returns;
the prose, select, when not in a hurry.
What words to us, as time directed,
Birth the newest conceptual image.
Choose carefully the picture selected,
Else chaos reigns o’er the resulting scrimmage.
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