Endless Possibilities

All the paper I’ve wadded up and chucked away

Could have printed a book of more volume,

And of more depth, than the words I leave on this page.

One could have been graced with a tune –

Of lyrical artistry – written by a broken man

Who sat, with his feathered fedora, at a coffee stand.

 

Another could have been a Wanted poster

Crafted by a child who’s lost their best friend.

One could have advertised a Breville toaster

At the neighbor’s yard sale next week-end…

Or maybe a boarding pass from London to New York;

Or maybe the best recipe for cass’roles of pork.

 

There’s so many things someone could do, and have done,

with the crumpled-up pages that fill up the bin.

Into a fortune teller they go – red, five, two, then one…

But here I rest, with another page, steadied by my chin –

Cause the pen in my hand, and the words that I find,

Don’t sound a single bit like what I’ve got in my mind.

 

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