Started a story, I saved as a draft
Hit the button and then I laughed
When I return all will have changed
Even the premise will be estranged
Where do they go? those initial decisions
On to a pile in hope for revisions
We forget, we remember and after the hiatus
We sit and consider what now awaits us
Our depth has deepened, our heights ascended
And it all happened while unattended
Life goes on, we evolve then regroup
Like a stirred bowl of chicken soup
Will it be good enough, fit for a king?
It just may be, but here’s the thing
A few more seasonings might make it a winner
But maybe, it’s whom you invite to the dinner.
The Infinite 