196

The words flowed like verse, captivating my mind,
As if the author's pen had been divinely entwined.
But then the call to action, a jarring intrusion,
Shattered the spell, exposing the post's illusion.

The magic of poetry, now reduced to a plea,
A soulless ploy, devoid of authenticity.
The genuine spark, extinguished by a desperate plea,
Leaving me longing for the art I once did s—

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