Sometimes poetry,
feels like hyperactivity,
through a pen.
Mental distraction,
in an action,
by the pen.
But sometimes there is structure,
the architecture,
engineered by the pen.
Sometimes just releasing,
forehead un-creasing,
thanks to the pen.
We try to decode it,
unload it,
the thinking of the pen.
Though sometimes limitation is felt,
like the tightening of a belt,
by the mind behind the pen.
For furiously,
curious is the nature
of men.
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