A man sat by the window,
to look out and view the meadow.
He's with a pen and a sheet of paper,
ready to write words and phrases that glitter.
But oh, a lot has happened,
and his heart has now weakened.
A pleasant image and idea, he cannot find
inside his wonderful yet troubled mind.
If only he could see through everything again;
if only he could somehow look for his old pen,
the ideas that are hidden deep inside his soul,
may possibly find their rightful places on his scroll.
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