Notice I never say "just great."
Notice I never say "well."
Notice I never say "horrid" or "grand."
When you ask how I’m doing, it’s scarce above "hell."
When you loved me I could not write
A single word of rhyme or prose.
I struggled with the implements,
But put them all down for a rose.
I thought the loss a small one,
Though I admit I missed the pen.
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