A lack of words or movement
So silence became the mode of functioning
And settled into a comfortable corner
To speak would admit a rustiness
A need for practice, for repetition
A need for patience and perseverance
Silence was much easier
But I miss the beautiful melodies
My pen used to weave across my paper
The radiance and joy that came to me
When forming words into masterpieces
So I picked up my pencil today
And wrote of the hollowness I've felt
For in my impatience and unwillingness to make effort
I set aside my greatest tool for growth
