I was going to write a nice poem today.
While I sat on the couch, a good inspiration hit.
And I wrote the first lines: "When love comes in the morning."
Then I went on thinking about those beautiful love days.
I spent time dreaming of what love is and should be, until
I fell asleep, leaving my note with just one line filled.
When I woke up about an hour later, the inspiration was gone.
All I had was just one line of a poem I ought to have completed.