Lose This

[Atheist Saint]

Sitting here, I think
That maybe I have lost the touch
The touch of words of meaning
Writer's block being expereinced
Am I losing my touch?

I remember as a kid
The time I was oblivious
I would spend countless hours
Playing games with my father
Outside, in the cool summer air
Breezes blowing against our skin
Walking through the endless green forest
Deer and bird watching

My oblivious persona has left me
The summer has turned to winter
The breeze chills my skin
The green forest is now dead
The deer and birds have all been killed
My father passed on twelve years ago

And this right here
This poem
Poetry
Is all I have left
And I fear I am losing my abilities

Another loss to add to the pile