Je ne sais quoi
You can't play the guitar like I do, with a certain I-don't-know-what that enlivens the spirit and makes monkeys chatter like magpies.
Life at work is bad coffee and eye strain.
I can't reach out for the fruit, low-hanging or giraffe-height. Are my arms too short?
What is happening here, now?

1 Comments:
If this is this poetry, than "Bravo." If not, seek help. Quickly.
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