Neglect

Theres dust on the yellowing paper
And dry ink in the abandoned pen
All the words have become vapour
Who knows when they will form again

Theres cobwebs in the corner
And nothing in the mind
The implements mourn her
As she's left them all behind

She yearns to find them all
And allow words to flow once more
She hears inspiration calling
But theres barricades at the door