Where did the words go
Where did all the poetic sentences go
The descriptions about how I feel
How the river of my Soul went still
How the Ocean of my heart can no longer be sailed
How my innocent emotions were jailed
Where are the sonnets that stole my sadness
Where are the songs that saved me from madness
Where are the stars that twinkled in the sky of my faith
Where's the warm breeze that characterized my breath
Where are the couplets that were perfect outlets
Where are the quatrains that filled my sensory pamphlets
Where are the dawns of the promise that someday I will heal
Where is the time I wrote to ****
Where is the love in every corner of this sphere
Where I'm I and why I'm I here
Where is the mountain of my philosophical perspiration
Where're the blissful springs of inspiration
Where is the pan gram to use all the alphabet in describing situations
Where are the rhythmical villanelles of my unanswered questions?