Lost

If the world spoke only in rhymes, what would become of me?

The blood, sweat, and tears of every author would be useless

The works of history would be lost to the sea

Almost every word I've written would be for nothing

Almost every word I've spoken would be gone

Music would be nothing but a conversation

Conversation would be nothing but poetry.

Poetry could not be special

If the world rhymed

Even this poem

Would not

Exist.