I’m not much of a poemer or an artist, but last year I was feeling down and so I sketched out the following.
Initially, I wanted to write more about what was broken. However, it’s been so long that these feelings are vague and foreign to me now. I wouldn’t want to do a disservice to them by trotting out platitudes to cover up my gaps in understanding.
I guess this is the price of procrastination. Poem below in writing.
I don’t know what it is,
but I do know that it’s mine.
I know it housed a light within,
for when it worked, it shined.