Something you earned for
Something you wanted
That one you've been looking for
In which you feel beloved

A material so cared of
To which you treasure
When carelessness strucks
All seems lost

Even just a single moment
of carelessness sneaks up on you
That thing which you keep
will definitely leap out of your pocket

The urge to write a poem
is like finding a butterfly
It takes time for some or
even one to be sublime

Love and loyalty
Commitment and consistency
All lost when you
don't have that urge
To be yourself
And to be true

Minds are baffled
And yet,
That one thing
that drives your imagination
is seemingly
Under reconstruction

Spirit of poetry
Be unto me
For I seek to be
sunk into memories