The world will never know what a gem it was. And neither will I.
Last night I dreamt a poem:
It was good, and it was clever.
But when I woke, the words had gone;
It won’t be published, ever.
The world will never know what a gem it was. And neither will I.
Last night I dreamt a poem:
It was good, and it was clever.
But when I woke, the words had gone;
It won’t be published, ever.