Unfinished

Itchy, unfinished poems

Send me to bed

With broken plans.

I close my eyes

And think of the lines

I might scribble down

Only to find them

Forgotten

In the coming dawn.

I hate this feeling-

Agitation with a touch

Of confusion.

I was to finish the piece!

But the fire had ceased

But then again,

There will be tomorrow.

I'll have to wake up

And finish the poems

Together with the completion

Of a dream I'd like to see

When I'm no longer asleep