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?