Looking for a punch line,
the plot of thought was lost
but strong was call of rhythm,
though it came at the cost,
of a soiled algorithm.
Looking for a punch line,
although irrelevant,
spontaneity died
and as oft is the case,
dweller of our heart sighed.
Looking for a punch line,
a forceful quietus,
lazy reader addressed
but those who’d feel the mist,
shuddered at notes compressed....
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