A poem...

Something told me I should write tonight
with no real inspiration, but I said I might
so I grabbed a pencil to jot down my thoughts
and instead of writing, in them I got lost
I told myself to focus, channel my inspires
maybe you, maybe us, maybe all of my desires
nope, still blankness, though plenty consumes my mind
perhaps I should save this poem for some other time
like when I have a topic, a muse, or a dream
all of which already exists, at least that what it seemed
So again, I grab my pencil in an attempt to share
something that I'm forcing, though I thought was already there
the need to put my finger on it, yet something I cannot touch
even though i feel it, to explain it? not so much
the answers I'm requesting, this poem cannot provide
for everything I need already lies inside
And though I'm one who is openly expressive
another poem will come to replace this digressive
and when it does, it will only prove the same
a mere reflection of my mind's game...

4/14/10
12:34am