The Mind of a Poet

I wish to be locked away for an hour, a moment, or maybe a day There I will fiddle with my expressions Of tomorrows early regressions Perpetuating my addiction to the paper and pen Here I denounce my inner self, and then May my twirling thoughts come to me now? Like a an insane poet That word will come to me “I vow “ Hours of silence and inner madness May bring me to utter sadness The sun shown its arrival that early morning To wake unsettled here I was yawning My brain was weary from a night of dreams Where I saw nothing but letters and had terrible screams Is there no place I may pass without query? Of my work that I will make my story