Fumbling Verse
Trying to gel
Thoughts dwell
Mind swell
Tapping a rhyming well
Skills fell
A rusty tell
A weak sell
Heating coils smell
I went to the well and found it parched
Shake me awake for the long march
Forging ahead slowly through the land
No pen or notebook in my hand
Drinking in the sights for inspiration
Hoping for a rebirth or continuation
Moving ahead in the journey
Deciding if I am road worthy
The next stop is unknown
Words stitched and sewn
Will this advanced lens work for me
Can I recover philosophically?
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