Important Message....

I had a poem this morn not on my blanco sheet all of a sudden my heart was torn that poem has gone using its feet now my mind deteriorates the problems culminate where was he, my poem-to-be? had he chosen another shelter, maybe? that blanco paper of me, sans golden lining he could not stand being imprisoned by me i the poetess sans muse, sans visible steady timing he wished to be used instantly I had a poem this morn i feel so wretched and forlorn my poem had chosen the pedestrian way to make me clear, he wants to be used fully ev'ry day.... ©Sylvia Frances Chan A.D. Friday the 9th of November 2018 @ 12.22 hrs. P.M. West-European Time