::letter to a lost poem

I had such high hopes for you.

Oh, such high hopes.

You were destined to be clever and witty; even that coveted and rarest of adjectives: "punchy."

I heard the phrase "unhinged praise" on National Public Radio, felt the Nudge of Inspiration, and dashed into the local trendy book/coffee shop, whereupon I wielded my not-so-trendy-anymore Smartphone and furiously punched at tiny buttons, attempting to compose the World's Next Masterpiece.

I failed.
At that moment, my self-consciousness flared, hard and loud, and I realized what I was...one of those thirty-something hipsters trying to look like I wasn't trying to look like a thirty-something hipster.

Damn you, self-consciousness, you nefarious adversary of unbridled creativity.
You may have wrecked my Next Great Poem.

Or maybe you saved it.