got me a trash can.
little brass can
'bout 2 feet tall.
sits by my desk,
next to the wall.

it's full to the brim
with unfinished thoughts
and incomplete ryhmes.
happens all the time.

start a story,
a poem if ya' will,
the rythmn don't come
or there ain't no rhyme.
guess it's just not the right time.

so there they be,
wadded up, crumpled up,
thrown away.
but they're still there
waitn' for another day.

who knows how
or who knows when
the words may come
and i can use 'em agin.

kinda like life.
bits & pieces
when the time was wrong.
then one day they make a song.