Wasted Trees

Wasted Trees


Millions of ideas,
tons of trees,
Thousands of memories,
Years of work:
Lost.
As if consumed by fire.
All wasted.
Was wanting more for myself,
Such a selfish desire?

I begin to wonder,
If anything is salvageable.
Then I ask;
   "but wait,
                                      "is it worth recapturing?"

I'm told "yes," thousands of times,
Yet I still question:
What's it worth?
All the rhymes,
All the sayings?
At the end of the day,
My problems, reappear.

For now,
Hopes lost,
The search that lies ahead,
Is what I fear.