Track To My Future

I rested with salvation
an ode to a memory
that I'm not ready to forget
waiting its return
from the track to my future
my bowl of inspiration
falling like a chandelier
our paths have crossed
like ships in the night
disappeared into thin air
to return with a vengeance
a stringed instrument
is patted to appease creativity
the dry tears fall
to the collapsing sound
of heartbeats broken
hard copies are made
from the unfinished poem
the aroma was a failure
the abuse was forlorn
and the memory incomplete


I misplaced it
but found my inspiration
under the bath mat.