Share   Print  Save   Become a Fan

Look at you my empty page
beautiful, white, and gleaming,
the lines that run across your grain
will somehow contain my screaming.

I've tried to break this sad affair
out of guilt, out of despair,
but no one knows me like you do
my beautiful page with lines of blue.

All my secrets you have kept
of my youth, my truths, my sorrows
you've accepted me with my darkened past
and all my dreams for tomorrow.

Every failure,
every moment of glory,
all my imagination
every sad, or happy story.

When there wasn't a friend
that could lend me his shoulder,
I have laid you, page,
filled you border to border.

You have given yourself to me
line after line,
you've lain under my pen
time endless time.

Endured essays and poems
some that do or don't rhyme,
together we have traveled
from rivers to shrines.

I often have wondered
what complaint you'd have said,
or the color of your blood
should you sometime had bled.

I hold you, my paper,
so close to my heart
me of flesh, blood, and bone,
you of wood, ink, and bark.