The poem I never wrote
lived in the dark recesses of my mind.
It had no substance.
It had no rhyme.
lived in the dark recesses of my mind.
It had no substance.
It had no rhyme.
The poem I never wrote
was like a diamond in the rough.
It lacked form
and was unpleasant to touch.
The poem I never wrote
lay on the tip of my tongue,
wrapped in slippery saliva,
underneath a sugarless wad of gum.
The poem I never wrote
will always be just that -
a lumpy idea that never
on paper lies flat.
It'll stay were it began
and never come out.
I'll think of it often, but never write it
because of too much self-doubt.
Published by Stephanie Modkins
Stephanie M. is a freelance writer who lives in the northwest. Her main goal is to write in a way that entertains, educates or uplifts readers. View profile
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2 Comments
Post a CommentWhat a beautiful thought on the poem which you never wrote. Very nice poem. Good to come accross this. thank you for sharing Philip
Excellent ending!