A Poem Forgotten

What becomes of a poem forgotten
That hasn't quite been written down?
Are words gone forever, or were they ever?
Or do they all just fall in a mound?

Decaying, yet enriching the soul that forgot them
A compost of thoughts, meter, and rhyme
Preparing the way for the depth of emotion
A poem requires to last all of time.

A rose, a rose!

Once upon a world of tomorrow
I sniffed a row of mechanical flowers

The name, a "rose" they proudly borrowed
But their fragrance was overpowered.

"A rose, a rose," I did repeat,
"never before has smelled so sweet!"