Like a childless mother after a miscarriage. <br />I cry for the verses that i have buried. <br />Like most of those wise poems <br />They vanish into thin air <br />Never to return again. <br />For the lost verses which could have uttered wisdom <br />I cry <br />At an odd hour, odd minute, odd second, odd moment <br />They came to me seeking to be scribbled on paper. <br />Preoccupied was i, <br />Busy with other things forgetting mine duty. <br />For those unborn stanzas i cry <br />Stanzas full of vibe and rhythm <br />How could i forget to be your lover? <br />And forget to pen you down? <br />Call me bitter-sweet lover dear poem, <br />Because i haven't been good to you. <br />To my unborn verses i swear on my very tools: pen and paper <br />I will deliver you till i can bear no more.<br /><br />Dash Black<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/for-the-lost-verses/
