The rich and the poor
The innocent and the guilty
The beauty and ugliness of it
When light becomes darkness
The smooth and the pitted
When lovers become repulsed
When summer sun becomes autumn death
I tiptoe into loud stomps
Excitement becomes disappointment
Sweetness becomes sour and ****
Gladness shifts to sadness
Like the scales of justice
One has no control
Blindfolded

Ink in hand.
Circling, circling, circling
Blank mind but so many thoughts
Remember the past
Faith for the future
Joyous words
But sad underneath
Write what you feel
No editing
Like a paintbrush in your hand
With only one color
Color of white
No words to write
Wring your hands
Dry as sandpaper
Thoughts roll in and roll out
Yet my paper is blank