Oblivion Poem by Elia Michael

It is so hard to write, at times so hard.
I've started lots of poems, but left them,
Yet I'm afraid to completely discard
These works, unfinished poems, to condemn
Them, kill them, send them to oblivion.

Is there million upon million,
I wonder, killed in such a way by them,
Those other writers now and yet to be
And in the past? And what beautiful gem
Has been destroyed in oblivion's sea?

It is so hard to write, at times so hard,
Requiring effort of Olympian
Proportions and a luck that is well starred,
So I don't send these words to oblivion.