The oddest place I have ever been struck by that ungodly force inspiration, well I remember once I was shopping for clothing for the beginning of a new school year. It was during a huge sale, so of course I was in an inconceivably long line. When suddenly, as if it fell down from the heaven, was a line,
As the Rose withers to ash, the face follows.
The poem which surrounded the words slowly began to form in my mind. I just had to right; by the time I got home the words would be lost forever. I couldn't just leave the line; I was almost at the register and I needed SHOES! And all I had on me was a pen, a wallet and that line, as if it was some sort of constant itch in the back of my head. So what do I do? I sit myself down on the floor and beginning to write on my arm, suffice it to say the customers around me were none too pleased.
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