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Stuck

One time
I tried to use krazy glue while assembling a model,
and it got lodged in between
my left thumb, and forefinger.

Another time,
some anonymous smart-ass said somehing to me,
and I couldn't for the life of me
think of anything at all, to come back with;

then, there were other times,
where I was but, ignored
and life just went on, and on without me
because, I was put on pepetual pause.

I guess those times
itch inside my brain, but forever
because, those very times are etched
inide my mind, so that I can't forget.

Maybe next time,
I'll see that spaciness a comming;
and when I draw the "blank", I'll just run;
and avoid that sickly, pasty situation altogether!

So then, at that time
I won't be caught stuttering, and stammering
for a private brilliance that won't show up;
I'll merely step sideways, and try to get away....."clean".

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
Out of my true comfort zone.
Editing stage: 

Comments

...my dear,
I believe this does portray it as a bit of a sticky wicket then, doesn't it?!
doc.

Neopoet is "newtriffic" !
...from the heart, or a reasonable faxcimile;
david a. goodwin #{:>{)} @==

author comment

...you make me smile.
doc.

Neopoet is "newtriffic" !
...from the heart, or a reasonable faxcimile;
david a. goodwin #{:>{)} @==

author comment
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