Staring down looking at the lines on an empty page
not sure what exactly to write about
love, hate, fun times, or just flat out rage
Should I say to hell with a sappy love theme
or reality that comes to us all
or maybe write about what happened in a dream?
No tears of sadness written here or jotted down
no leaping for joy for I found my lives true love
neither will be etched of a hint of a frown.
No signs of a booby trap or locked in a cage
troublesome times not found here either
just blank stairs down at an empty page.
The canvas is blank as it can be
for what I choose to write or not
I know it's all up to me.
So a story is where I begin growing old with age
maybe in a later time or in the future
as I begin to tell my tale on an empty page.