There
Fresh page
Devoid of lines
Yesterdays writing shows still
But only in faded reversal
And with every new word inscribed
The past becomes that much more illegible
Unless pen is dropped page is turned back
Or if tears are spilt all over todays entry
Upon remembering the concerns worth writing about the day before
So fill blank spaces with ink and dont stop
To read the woes of previously recorded thoughts
Until the book runs out of pages
Or your hand is too tired
Pen out of juice
Then you can
Read back
Again