Love

My heart is filled with an empty well; 
I guess that is why I feel a little unwell. 
My mind goes in circles as I try to spell 
'Another love poem.' 
I scribble and scrap these ugly lines 
For they just cannot rhyme with the times; 
Times which can never be described by yet 
Another love poem. 
You deserve so much more. 
More than words on a screen; 
Where another poet and critic will analyze my heart, 
My heart where my imperfect rhymes come from. 
Could I not rather paint my feelings? 
For in my words I have lost confidence 
They will re-spell, change and rearrange in imprudence. 
Another love poem is just not enough even for my own indulgence.

Another Love Poem