She could paint, sing, dance, act and write and run.
But many years later as she sat at the table to convey her soul
her prose fell short of words ,
ego smeared her poetry,
lyrics dangled loosely about her song,
language stifled her thoughts ,
rhythm beat her thoughts off and
her ragas were punched with notes astray.
So she decided to dig a hole.
The deeper her thoughts traveled ,the more she dug.
She lived happily under there ever afterwards .
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