My hands are tired, they have worked too hard,
The magic is gone, no one is interested in the slide of a card,
My mind is racing, it is time for something new,
But when the magic is gone, what else is there to do?
My voice is quiet, the notes no longer crisp,
The melody is fading, coming out as only a wisp,
The sounds no longer inspire, no one wants to hear,
The changes are coming, the future is no longer clear.
My brain is muddled, the stories no longer flow,
No matter the words I spin, the worlds no longer show,
New thoughts are invading with no poetic rhyme,
New tricks I am learning, to occupy my time.
My fingers are no longer nimble, the keys only clatter and clink,
The rhythm unbecoming, as my spirit begins to sink,
I am not broken though, it is again time for something new,
Many changes have shown me, there is still so much more I can do.