Monday, November 2, 2009

Ode to The Blank Page


Dear Blank Page,
Where do I begin...?
Cuz all I know is

you are not
a friend to me
you give me hopes
unrealistically
that call for action.
O,
how will I ever get
past this?
when you poke and pester me
with a
vengeance.

Such a bully you
know that?
when I see you I run;
get a ton of nerves and
butterflies
in my tummy, you
make me weak.

I wanna grab some
yellow paint and just
splash it in your center
like a summer day
in winter
out of the or-
dinary,
you make art
excessively scary,
cuz with this solemn swear
of hate
you carry;
a vengeance.

Look at me I'm
flippin' out
without out a clue
of my next move;
move,
on to the next one...

cuz even with the most ideas
and the most thought put
into it,
you stay still and
empty like
you have no soul-
and when you have no soul
I have no soul.

so tell me if I add
my spice and flava
to your abyss,
will you still haunt me
for the rest of my life?

And keep coming back
with a
vengeance?

Oh look, you
aren't so blank anymore.

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