I had every intention of writing something down,
But I didn’t; I neglected to
Seems it wasn’t important
Now I’m waiting for that thought to come to me again
It’s no matter really
I must have thought about it a hundred times today
Strange how it escapes me now
As if it was just some passing fancy
It wasn’t fancy and it wasn’t a dream
It was a thought so tangible, I embraced it
It had become something separate from me
Even though it was entirely my own
It came to life and
It separated itself from creator;
Turning its back forever,
Inventing an identity of its own
I must have thought about it a hundred times today
Maybe I just don’t recognize it anymore
I had intended to write it down,
But I didn’t; I neglected to.
Did you forget the milk again?
ReplyDeleteI'm just kidding! Great piece! This happens to many of us and we don't ever put pen to paper.
Thank you very much for the kind words. I am really glad you enjoyed my poem. Also, I would like to apologize for looking like such a grump the other night when you were talking to Kelley on Skype. I did indeed forget the milk.
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