Poet Again

I want to be a
poet again.
Perhaps I never was
one, but
I want to bleed
my feelings.
I want my soul to grab
this pen from my hand.
Let me show you how to feel!
I want him to take over:
The Hopeless Romantic that
I used to be.
She love me more then,
or so I think.
She says she will always
love me, that man that I am,
but I could make her cry
once.
She would read, and my
words would blur in
the pools of her tears.
Was that me?
Am I lost?
I want to be a poet
again.
I want to write her,
and pour my feelings
over her.
She would drink them like
sweet water,
because
she is dying of thirst.
She needs the romance.
I need it, too.
I want to be a poet
again.
I never stopped loving
her,
feeling her.
I never stopped.