Where Has It Gone? Poem by Thomas Plotz

Seems like a lifetime ago
The wings and things,
Where has it gone?

New fawns in spring,
Spawns the new words of literature?

The flow of words, the flood of poems, and songs
When it stops, sometimes
I ask myself, why and where, has it gone?

Drops of ice, fall from trees, to the snow
The true rhymes are slow, and coming
Thankful for bordeaux wine, to whisk the
Pain under the rug
Why, does auto correct want’s Bordeaux?
It’s more than a regent in France

Even so, with my bad spelling, and dyslexia
Perplexed, somehow I spelled that right
No – I had to look it up
Alright, small white lie

The ability to put words on paper, or
Clicks on clacks, tapping out the message, of rhyming poetry
I ask myself, where has it gone?

And for the longest time,
It did go
The rhyming and discord

The ability to wright, to express my things, my true feelings
My true grit, my true worth, I once had writers block for years
One day I put down the pen, and walked away,
On a sabbatical of war, you could say, a
180* different direction, of my expression
 

I used a different instrument,
To wright a different song

All my old poems I gave away, or pressed delete
Even sold some, for very, very, cheep
To people who sweep, and claimed mine, to woo their own
Covering large arc, of my material
It was a hard pressed, love feast to say the least

Then, I saw you, and
Everything was, the way it was
I’M able to wright again

Then, I saw you
My Man in Blue
I’M able to understand, who I am,
Where I’ve been and
Where I come from

From the sight of you
My Man in Blue
From the sight of you

I don’t know why I forget?
It pisses me off

Then the sight of you,
I know my families Love
Will make it all better

With that, I’M able to wright again
With that, you make it better

My expressions will roll, like the
Tides of the sea, with
Songs of you, and the
Songs of me

T. Plotz
Where does it go?
DEC 8,2015