An UnpRoVokeD ThoughT , A re-ReaD PoetRy

Once more the pen is a slave
To my fingers
But it's a strain, a pain that runs down my veins
An unprovoked thought, a re-read poetry
I need to wake up and see, I have lost the poet in me.

Or she was a long lost love?
Flew down to my thoughts, and flew away again
Once again, the pen is a slave to my fingers,
slave or a burden , i wonder..

What is this I'm writing?
This is not poetry, these are confessions
Confessions unsaid, unheard.. boring..
was it hunger or satisfaction? A re-read line
THe pen, a slave or burden?? An unprovoked thought

I cannot fit a word
"Sword, bored, lord" , I think but little thought
I cannot rhyme a word here
Fit words, make sense, that's all? Is it?

ALL is a tu\iny word with a terrible meaning
But can it be enough? should it be enough?
I strive to figuare out
The veins r rupturing , I think
But who shall wake me up, who shall see?
That I never had a poet in me...