There's something about a blank college-ruled notebook. When I see one in the store, or even just a page laying out on the table, I'm enthralled. I see opportunity, adventure, a spark of creativty, and a mind longing to roam free.
Add on if you'd like
I'd add on by saying that it honestly makes me sad when I see such a perfect notebook ruined by math at school, or how when we writers go to write, we think too much about it, look down on what we want to write, then nothing gets done and we donmt write for a while and claim we have writers block. But I thought it might ruin the poem