Losing Passions
Looking through your own eyes
like rain covered windows
as you stare out of them
wondering where your mind wandered.
The brush that lays stagnant
once filled with paint and inspiration
collects but does not create.
The room once filled with notes
a display of music
as fingers danced across the strings and keys
now quiet.
When has my mind became the labyrinth
once filled with passions
now consumed with empty responsibility?
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