I'm beginning to wonder
if I lost that magic touch;
These words used to come so easily,
to frame my dreams and nightmares
The paper used to beckon,
gleam like a beacon
While I was lost at sea, the words
would be the rope to pull me free
They gave me just a little bit of clarity,
until they faded away.
I reach and grasp,
maybe catch loose threads,
But it's never strong enough
to pull me to safety.
I miss the magic of words,
of creating invisible images.
It's just starting to feel like
my magic has faded.
Jun 28, 2023
Jun 28, 2023 at 12:18 AM UTC
I'm beginning to wonder
if I lost that magic touch;
These words used to come so easily,
to frame my dreams and nightmares
The paper used to beckon,
gleam like a beacon
While I was lost at sea, the words
would be the rope to pull me free
They gave me just a little bit of clarity,
until they faded away.
I reach and grasp,
maybe catch loose threads,
But it's never strong enough
to pull me to safety.
I miss the magic of words,
of creating invisible images.
It's just starting to feel like
my magic has faded.
I don't write much anymore. I miss it.
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