I had the beginning of a poem
in my mind when I came
to write it down here,
a sentence that seemed to flow
into something more,
but when I was ready to write,
it was there no more;
like a faint echo of it,
in the depths of the forest
of my mind, fading.
How often has this happened,
this stillbirth desperately
turned into a poem
telling of the failure,
so that something might live?
17.01.2023
#Poem #Poetry #Poems #Verse.
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