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I felt a feeling massive, hung
Built in strength from inside my lung
Travelled up from my bowels
It made me secrete these majestic vowels
Onto the white space of paper
To be lost into poems coming later
The tip of feathers caressed in ink
My thoughts are arches that I must link
Grandeur many, the vast plains of intelligent patter
Compressed into one millionth's matter
Wisely, as an I owl, Fore I retreat into my bed
I must conclude my words – I wish them to be read
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