What was I gonna say?

I forgot what I wanted to say because I left my pen in Trenton.
Forgive the absence of thought.
I apologize for the oversight.
One day soon I shall remember my thoughts,
and my pen shall strike the page with the fury of my love.
Until it rolls, again, away from my unconscious hand into the stew.
Beneath the seats, beneath the filth sponges.
Down where no instrument of love should ever land.
Rattling around the bus tormenting me in it's filthy freedom.

But I promise you my sweet sweet muse.
Some day I will remember what I wanted to tell you.
And maybe then I'll have my pen.