Ideas Poem by Matthew Holloway

Some of my best ideas come
When I least expect them
When I am without a pen to jot them down
I try to keep them in memory
But they become blurred
They become disjointed and lost
Consigned to frustration
Wanting to remember that spark
Which lit my mind into life
I sometimes find a segment of them
Those ideas which come to me
And fashion something out
Only it never looks right
It doesn’t have the feel I’d like
I guess some things are not to be
I guess I keep talking
Hoping I’d stumble across them
Some of my best ideas come
Then I least expect them
What I have learnt in my short life
Its always good to carry a pen