Lost Words...

I always have extra words, lost bits and

pieces never heard.

A small refrain or snippet of prose, left behind with

no place to go.

Silent companions of my midnight mind, stanzas and

juxtapositions left behind.

Like a film on the cutting room floor, are these pieces

of myself to be read nevermore?

Wasted ink, words to her turned to dust, I mourn the loss

of poems hushed.

If it were merely a comma or a period, here or there,

would I feel such deep despair?

Words fell away from a poignant ode where I tried to

state something more bold,

but my heart was gagged and my mind muted

with worries that my words may be refuted.

The weight of volumes unwritten, a silence that is so

heavy yet full of words that felt forbidden.

Thoughts unsaid, so many of love's buried emotions,

long ago tropes of lost devotions.

I long to paint a broader picture with inked thoughts

that come out richer.

Expressing my loss and pain, wanting words restored

from deep within for love lost again and again.

May I find what I lost and use them to erase

the cost of losing both her and my words, hoping

someday they will be heard.

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Thanks for reading! - Sam

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