The key to expression is hidden
deep in the grey recesses of memory
where it is nervously flitting back and forth
cowering between and behind others of its kind
memories that serve as both guides and distractions
weaving an intricate labyrinth of false opportunity
resulting in hair-tearing frustration and a
profound feeling of utter uselessness
until one moment the key missteps
you grasp it with desperate fingers
pulling it into full remembrance
and molding it to fit the space
reserved for that one last
perfect word.
