A moody topic for a November Tuesday, as we have passed the midpoint to NaNoWriMo.
There is nothing sadder,
Than a paintbrush left to dry.
Or a nice crisp notebook,
With the pages mostly blank.
To see a kitchen left untouched,
The stove yet to be used,
It is more than just a shame,
It is wasted potential.
Then to see that girl at school,
Who could sing so beautifully.
Then touch base a decade later,
And she’s working in a grocery store.
A fragrant flower garden,
That’s been left to grow all wild.
And a university diploma,
That’s been left to gather dust.
Life is full of chances,
It is full of potential.
To see some of that go to waste,
Why that’s never really right.