I liked the repetition of the line "The art of losing isn't hard to master." I wanted to try using the repetition myself, mixed with the sort of rhyme at the end of each line.
The art of losing isn't hard to master:
Just ask Leah, who asks once daily about
keys or glasses, or her phone- which would be a disaster
if truly lost
but alas, they only vanish
briefly under the folds of pink or tossed
on the floor in agony
for the art of losing isn't hard to master
its losing you that's harder than mahogany.
She'll find her keys and phone-
glasses too; but not finding you one day
is the true disaster- for you're a welcome mat
on the front porch of a Douglasville stone front.
The art of losing isn't hard to master-
finding, is the true disaster.
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