Life starts as a blank page,
Where anything and anyone
Can contribute as an author.
Gaurdians carve the page
With passion and love,
But the passion fades away
And the love can change dramatically.
Dreams subconsciously fill the page
While the media whitens them out
And corrects them as fears and nightmares.
Happiness gets erased,
Then saddness stains the page in ink.
Then that one person comes along
To address the page with love.
Paint splatters onto the paper
And colors burst over
The white out and ink.
But as time crumples the page,
The paint chips off
And your lover searches for a canvas.
You remain lost in a stack of papers
As society bleed onto the page.
Your patience wears thin,
And sparks of confusion
Start a flame of anger.
Your life burns away,
You become a pile of ashes,
And realize how little value
One piece of paper can hold.