Last to Know

On a folded scrap of paper,
I wrote down some thoughts,
intending to turn out
the next great poem of the ages.

I wrote down some thoughts,
slipped into my wallet,
and nearly forgotten,
as I bustled out the door late again.

Intending to turn out
great in life,
I forgot to call home for guidance,
and ended up adrift and lost at sea.

The next great poem of the ages,
became dog-eared and worn thin.
Never quite finished,
tossed out with receipts and phone numbers.