(no subject)

And remembering once accused that
I was "yet another one of those Asians
Who play without any feeling"
I set out to prove it wrong to myself
For I knew I was not.

I remember.

I travelled through realms
Untouched for years.

And I stopped. I returned. I practised.
Yet fluency was so arrested
Because of age every time:
"No, this cannot do.
I must find another way,
A way that I remember enough
To brave all obstacles and move onward."

Until I returned to the signpost
I left at the beginning of the road to despair
(A place to which I return often)
And though the letters are rough and haphazard
It is the only place I still recognize
And everything afore and ahead of it
Could no more be what they used to be.

But here I can set one pain aside
And take upon another
So when I rise again
My body is sore but no bother
Though I cannot in this way prove to the world
I can still prove to this to myself,
And that is all I need for now.