of Paper and Ink (a poem)

The dream lost,
unraveled, unwritten,
to aether went,
in a moment forgotten.
Eternal the cost.

Fleeting words,
unreflected, unspoken,
time not spent,
a vision ne’er woken,
remains unheard.

Which, I ask, is worse;
uninspired, unapproved,
or leaving no mark,
upon lives, unmoved?
A lost legacy of verse.

This gift of paper and ink,
unrequited, unshared,
remains in the dark,
as though no one cared
to express, or even think.

~ elr