The Poem Lost

I lost a poem while climbing up the stairs.

It was almost complete, words and all.

I had thought it all up sitting on a concrete wall.

The night was calm and dark was the sky,

Heck! I even saw some lanterns floating by.

Inspiration flooded me, and I almost drowned,

But neither paper nor pen, I could find.

(Which was kinda obvious, for I was outside,

And facing me was a ground spread wide.)

So I started typing in my phone,

(Damn! Once you learn phonetics, it’s so hard to rhyme.)

So, I typed up some words, about the night and the sky,

Of all the sounds and sights I could sense,

So that once I reach my room, I can poem those words.

Airplane

Breeze

Cicadas

Drums in a temple

Engines on the road

Fireflies

Something with “G” and so on

But something happened while I was climbing my stairs.

As if the flood gave way to a searing drought.

As if the words I stored, went up in steam.

As if, well, one more comparison like the ones above.

(For three reinforces, roots it in the ground.)

And when I reached my room, all empty was I.

Thus, I lost a poem while climbing up the stairs.