0452

I think up a poem when i first wake up,
then i think of one when i look into my cup,
not in front of the computer to write,
then busy through the day into the night,
creative flows happen but i am not near,
by the time i get home most disappear,
its a pain the ass to write on my phone,
and i can only seem to do them when alone,
so many of the things i think up are thrown away,
entering and exiting my mind without the need to stay.