I jus' cannae dae it cap'n!

You see... sometimes it gets to this point.

He seals his secret thoughts in a simple paper packet
Pops it safely in a pocket on the inside of his jacket
Stops to take a look at her picture in his locket...


This is the point where I bang my head against the table and cry, "I can't do it. I'm not Eminem, it's too hard!"
*thud*

There's just no way I can squeeze a decent line in there and still turn it into some decent poem. I pondered "Pulled back to the memory with the speed of a space rocket" then beat my head against the desk again. It's just one of those ideas that's going nowhere.

My point, and there is one, is that this shit is HARD! And thus, I always appreciate your patience in waiting for my genius to emerge from its somewhat bruised cocoon.
Night night.