Might seem studious in your eyes;
I’m just the person who writes.
Vibrant colors and warm winds.
Resting in the summer breeze.
Grey clouds above waves in seas.
Strong floods beyond nature’s needs.
These are the things that I see.
Falling leaves in shades of red.
Trees look like McDonald’s head.
Bright, festive lights paraded.
“It’s Christmas,” the people said.
I saw these things before me.
Writing for an audience.
They read only what makes sense.
The best stories have essence.
To write in many accents,
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