I love it when
A bright spark
Or a little idea
Pops into my weeny brain.

And for that
Brief
Short
Moment

I feel enlightened,
I feel inspired,
To piece that into
A pretty poem.

Alas,
The thoughts
The brilliant ideas
They go away,
Away from me.

I desperately reach out.
I'm so close,
But yet so far,
Unable to stop them,
I'm helpless again.

These bits and pieces,
These stories in my head,
They slip
Away.

They go
Out of my reach
Out of my mind
Out into the blank cold world unkind.