juices are gonne

i saw the light and thought i might the feeling of triumph that in my boosom was conceived a feeling i couldn't fight i took my old pen and put it on paper i had no juices but had a dream that in my eyes was like cream the booth, the truth that is where i wanted to be i wanted to write my love a sonnet that in the sky will be a commet and make me whole just like Hebert contemplatively and imaginatively, i sat and sucked my pen i read your piece and smiled at your talent all was nice i had no comment the idea of word all gone from me i then wrote a poem, now you are reading it.