Why this urge to put my words into rhyme,
Why feel this need to make my feelings hum?
Why does prose seem a task strenuous on the mind?
Is it my lack of patience or a reflection of our time.
Are we too busy for words that seem plenty but linger at best,
Too occupied to appreciate the beauty of a detailed text?
Or is poetry a way to say much through so less,
Where many emotions are expressed and others genuinely felt.
Are both form of expression a part of a seamless and wonderful whole,
Are there times when both come together towards a greater shared goal.
For days I strained for the obvious and allowed lethargy to choose one over the other.
Preferring one of the sibling so unique yet crucial borne out of a common mother.
It was me all along who chose to ignore the significance of both,
The role of prose and poetry for true literary growth.
So many days lost and growth hindered that still may prove hard to compensate.
But lessons were learned and feel eager to start over as it's never too late!!!!!