I lost few lines I had written. Those were the lines churned out of impulse, in those few seconds realisation. I searched for them. Opened the recycle bin, looked for every possible way to restore them, but then they were lost, in the ocean of words. Those lines were beautiful - original creation of my own mind. I could not let them go. How could I let go what I had created?

 Few lines that they were from the deapths of my  heart. Few lines that they were oozed out of my pain. Few lines that they were I could not find them. Written for no one, they were for me. I don't know what happened to the thought behind those lines? Where did it all disappear? As I looked for those lost lines I heard the echo of those countless words churned out again and again, cliched but still original. Are those lines I lost somewhere around, about to bounce back as yet another original thought?