Fast (an acrostic poem)

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Flying by quicker than a speeding bullet

And laughing at how slow that bullet really is

Seconds and minutes turn into hours before you know it

That is the type of speed that kills productivity

Blah (an acrostic poem)

But the plot will come if you just type words.  You just have to believe.

Like that would really happen.  He laughed bitterly.

All it meant was the letter vomit on the page might be some sort of Rorschach story form.

He closed the document and went to bed.  He had seen enough.

 

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