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.