I really don't know why
But here I sit again
An empty page before me
A pen within my hand

As I look upon the page
Laying as an empty canvas waiting
I contemplate the colors
Before my hands begin their painting

What picture will I paint
What thought will be revealed
When the ink at last is brushed
To bring forth the story concealed

I don't know why I posses
A desire that has no end
To create an image or thought
With paper and with pen.

RLB