For hours and hours
Ideas roam around my mind
But I never succeed
In pulling them into it
Words seem to be a foreign substance,
Sentences complicated entities
Never able to stand alone
Without me dashing them out
In a voluntary act of impulse
Striking every letter
With a different color
Because my mind functions better
When ideas are less than abstract
And words come in colors
Yet even these acts are not helping
For I need all the colors in the world
And even much more
To formulate one sentence
That lays down the fact
That I fail to express
How much I miss you
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