A lost grip

As her grip loosened, finger by finger
the water heaving as her palm trembled
the bucket landed with a loud thud
and the liquid slowly vanished in the mud.

Her grip was not the only thing lost on her
The smile that framed her face had betrayed her
Gone was the glow, the shimmer in her eyes
Bereft of focus, gone was her sight.

The sun still dawned and days felt heavy
Gone was the flow that swallows many
a minds deep into the pleasures of hardwork
Gone was the satisfaction of a long days work.

Time ticked slowly, still enough had been squandered
ideas were plenty, but motivation not conquered
Plenty were there to play with, laugh and prosper
But the heart wanted the thing that mattered.
Grey seemed black and red... maroon
Colorful days were as if lost to the moon
Nothing could tighten the grip of her mind
to the work she so desperately wanted to find..
It got tougher to live in the confines of her mind
Even tougher to keep the positivity tight.
All she wanted was another chance
another turn, another prance
And she knew she could make it better
lasting forever, going back never.

She gathered her bucket and her patience
Once again waiting in line at the well
Her palms sweaty as she waited for her turn
To fill her bucket with some purpose again....