This happens to me more often than I'd like to admit. I'm somewhere that I can't get to a pen and paper, usually driving, and an idea pops into my head. Ooh, I like it. I'll jot it down as soon as I stop. Within minutes, I am stopped. Minutes. Yet, somehow the idea is now gone. Lost for all eternity. So, out of that, this arose. It's so frustrating. Do you have any idea how many poems would've been written if I could only remember what the hell I wanted to write about? Who knows? One of them could have even been the next great American novel!
What was the idea that was just in my head?
It was there just a second ago.
How could I have lost it so soon after it came?
Yet, it is nowhere to be found.
Was it about love or loss?
Hope or despair?
Food or hunger?
Empty air?
Was it about poems or prose?
Life or death?
Friends of family?
Your last breath?
We'll never know what it could've been
For he ran away so quickly.
No comments:
Post a Comment