czar/poetry/sonnet/badsign

shall i write
some thoughts perhaps
yet something is missing
a drive, an inspiration maybe
shall i talk of my day, or my days
i feel dry and empty, a state of malignancy
or is it of peace... it might be the absence of it
for all i do is contemplate, type, then without warning, erase
yet there is this urgency, a passion if you may to
reflect or even just make a comment of some
sort. poetry is brewing like a cup
of coffee but it seems 2
bring me back 2 start
shall i write