This page was blank
(Just like my mind-
Empty as dreams
I've left behind)
Waiting for hope
In the form of a pen-
For brilliant thoughts
To come again.
And nothing comes
As long as it waits,
Accepting life,
Denying fate;
Wanting the future
Without the pain
Of a pen that scratches
When writing a name.
And I know this page
Had a reason to be-
To release the thoughts
Locked up in me.
It never saw
What was to come
Until the poem
Was truly begun.
And now, I'm here-
Blank as a page,
Waiting for actors
To fill the stage.
And someday, soon,
I'll have my words-
Some of reason,
Others absurd.
And although I can't
See what's ahead
I'll have to trust
There is an end.
My life will fill-
Fate unengaged-
Will have its plot...
Just like this page.
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