I can write poetry no longer
my life is to perfect to inspire
My troubles made my writting stronger
My loveless life lit a passionate fire

I can write poetry no more
This happy tune won't go away
Poetry has become a chore
In my beauty, here I lay

I can write poetry, never again
My happy poems are an emotionless confection
I do not suffer from voices of torment
How I hate this perfection.

 
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