Lost

I lost two years of my life in Redline train on Saturday evening around 6: PM! My writings! The original copies of my diaries, 30 pages re-writing, one article, a book review and many notes and poems-- all unpublished! Lost and Found office was closed on weekends! No one was around to take the lost items, only the exhausted conductors in their dark, isolated cubes...
I called today no one has turned them in yet! A CTA personnel said: “IF you're LUCKY, you'll find them!”

I feel something in me is dead!

One Art
by Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.


--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.