The idea of no comma

Sometimes
My words are disjointed and erratic.
They just burst out of me without prelude
But then
They fizzle out
And die.

They have no meaning or rhyme
Tumbling hesitantly from my pen like little squirts of ink
A potpourri of sorts-
Or maybe just a
Big pile of sludge.

Sometimes
My words just fail to impress function.
No emotion. No meaning.
No commas. No rhythm.
No love. No poetry.

The End

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