Forgotten Verbs

I scroll the screen in half-lit nights,

searching forms that slip from sight.

“To lie” or “lay,” the question stays,

muddled pasts in jumbled phrase.

The phone glows soft, a timid friend,

rescue word before words bend.

Third time this month, I trip, I stall,

bound by verbs I can’t recall.

Grammar ghosts, they haunt the page,

slipping syntax out of cage.

Each search a small, unsteady plea:

Remember me, remember me.