I’m a one hit wonder,
A famous author turned recluse,
A child prodigy who lost her way—
I’ve forgotten my use.
I’m a painting never finished,
A sentence with no punctuation,
A guitar with no strings—
I’ve lost a grip on my situation.
I’m a play without a script,
A conversation interrupted,
I’m a book put down halfway through —
I had a dream that’s been corrupted.
I’m a dance with no choreography,
A story with no ending,
A symphony with no director—
I have a heart that needs mending.