Sometimes rhymes come to me
As I'm lying* in bed
Whole stanzas of rhyme
But I then drift on into sleep
And those rhymes are lost forever
I wish I could just unleash them
By pulling some magic lever
Whenever the heck I want
But maybe it is better this way
Maybe those rhymes,
Lost to the dream world,
As a result of my laziness
In not getting up to write them down,
Maybe those rhymes are not lost at all
Maybe they'll come back to me
Like maybe next fall
And then maybe they'll be
In much better form
Cuz they've been thru the wringer
The wringer of suppressed
Thoughts and dreams
Of nightmares and schemes
Squashed and suffocated
In the murky waters of
Bad habits' poison streams
And then since those rhymes
Have now been through hell
They'll come out much stronger
With a wiser story to tell
Inge, you are being dramatic.
These lost rhymes that you speak of
Are probably stupid and
It's good that they're gone,
Never to return.
They're just bad letters, bad ideas,
That you should pile up and burn
Nothing good from them will emerge
Like half the crap you keep in boxes
In your apartment
Maybe it's time to do a purge!
*lying or laying? I’ll never know. I’m a rhyming machine, not a grammar queen.
