My Words

My words escape me,
trying to write,
what spills from the brain,
on this warm, summer night.

Words stop coming
or they are few.
What am I now
supposed to do.

When words leave my mouth,
they're no longer mine.
Words are lost,
all of the time.

Don't be foolish,
accept the grief,
for you, my friend
are a word thief.

You borrow from others,
as you often do.
I'm pleading guilty.
What about you?