This blank page was given to me,
To do with whatever I please.
All I do is sit and stare.
Ponder and mull is all I do,
What to write?
What to draw?
Where will my imagination go?

This blank page was given to me.
I am driven to fill it, to make it mine.
Fill it with the world around me,
Show it as it’s meant to be.
Maybe I’ll just doodle,
Or scribe a piece of prose.
Then again,
Maybe I should leave it.
Nothing but perfection,
Pristine, like snow.
Fresh frosty clean and ready …

© Nick Strong 2014