A writer’s struggle with himself over the loss of an idea.

I had a great idea today,
so I thought I’d write it down;
But when I put my pen to paper
it was nowhere to be found.
Sitting here with coffee cup
pressed up against my lips,
I search my mug for my idea,
whilst pausing between sips.
I tipped my cup a little bit
and swirled it all around,
but all I found was my reflection
floating in the murky brown.
He looked at me and I looked back -
the cheeky little twerp!
I was certain that he took it,
so I quaffed him, with a slurp!
Satisfied, I crossed my arms.
I figured that’d show’m.
You cannot steal a man’s idea -
especially not his poem!
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