Unwritten Poems

What happens to those poems?
You know the ones
The thought that seems so important
When you don't have a pen
Or you're late to pick up the kids.

What if "nothing rhymes"
No metaphor fits
And it's similar to nothing?
The thesaurus is missing
And you cannot find the word?

Or you have a headache
Or carpel tunnel syndrome or,
I don't know, maybe the book fair
Is on and you promised to volunteer?

Does it float endlessly in the
Acashic record or
Do numberless muses
Deliver the unclaimed lines
To rows of laboring hacks.

Fear, grief, anger
Loss of a line, or a word
A word so important
Loss leads to death
Death of ideas,
Death of self
Death of poetry.