Sometimes I write things I don't understand
But the pen starts to move when it gets in my hand
So I write down a poem that doesn't quite rhyme
And I write down a history that doesn't keep time
I write down a story that hasn't an end
And I write down a hero that hasn't a friend
So I write and I write and I finally read
And I see in the writing a small part of me
I had nothing to say at this short poem's start
But the words that I wrote sketch a slice of my heart
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