Lost in the ether

I Need A Notebook
by GC SMITH

I'm of Irish extraction and much given to words
with which I make magic, at least so I have heard

I sure hope that readers of my poems will agree
but there are some poems that they'll never see

Poems that are lost, simply dissolved in the ether,
poems made of thoughts never put down on paper

Sometimes I make strophes that I should write down
if I don't, then those verses are gone, I say, and I frown

Now, how the hell do I get that stuff back,
it's a mystery to me, I fear it always will be

Perhaps it's through the binary, Boolean bits,
Like yes and no, on and off and one and two hits

They'll process the stuff that's run through my brain,
it's in there, yet, I'm unsure I'll ever find it again

'Cause I'm sure not a computer, no, I'm flesh and bone
and If I don't put poems to paper then dammit they're gone