I sensed this great creative surge today,
an unseen power springing from within.
Deep inside it came poking, prodding,
Beckoning to be reckoned with,
brought to life and into being.
But, alas! I’ve rugs to sell and many things,
To do, places to go and people to see.
So here I sit in traffic deep,
Brawling with my deepest muse,
to keep it quiet and quite content.
Staring through this aging crack,
That grows slowly across my windshield.
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