I,
once lively
full of personality
and greatness

Now,
a withered shadow
empty of balance
unsteady
from the stressors in front
and behind her
left by grace

I want to do something
But I can't seem to do anything
I just sit on the couch
Cat on my lap
Blanket over me
And read

Everything I write
Right now
I feel isn't complete

I want to get up
And walk with my music outside
But I'm tired
Why is this so hard for me?