I started to write the words to
another poem about pain that
kept me on edge of life.
But none would flow the way I wanted
I felt my words were to repetitive
of those I've written before.
To similar to those that cover the pages
of not books and journals...
Somehow the words ran out today.
Soul searching is in order...
Maybe I don't want to write just pained poetry
Maybe I want to write poems that inspire
that mean something to someone but me.
Reinvention, inventing, and searching.
It's time to start searching.