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Always Writing written by senior Gabriel Howard

Never once was my hands hateful,

In fact, they’re quite swell,

Whether to carry a duck or frog,

My hands are a work of art.

Veins and bones pop up suddenly,

Glistening in the sunlight,

Sizzling, marvelous in every great way.

I roam the beach of my imagination,

Stripping myself of my clothes,

into Pajamas or appropriate attire,

Gyrating my hands,

rowdy to Begin my ritual in writing.

There I sit, fingers unmoving,

Ready to strike; My brain forms the first sentence,

They attack the keyboard with vigor.

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