Poems Lost (#88)

Old poems cast into the crackling fire,
Their ashes rise into the air, higher and higher,
They served their purpose when they were wrote,
But it was time to erase their historical footnote,
Others of that time period still shall remain,
Those burnt were dishwater where the others champagne,
Many could be saved or even preserved,
But some were just so bad they got what they deserved,
I hate destroying what I once created,
But for those few, destruction seemed fated,
I thank them for the service they once provided,
For had they not been, I’d been even more lopsided,
Those words had a purpose and a need to be said,
But now they’re among the written word’s honored dead,

Any Thoughts?

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