Blank Pages
Blank white pages, staring back at me
Waiting for inspiration, waiting to be
Something beautiful, something that sounds
So sweetly melodic it completely drowns
Out all the noise and trouble of this life
And there's no longer a need for this here knife
Scars fade with each word I dare write
These same words allow me to sleep at night
The page fills, turning from white to grey
On this page my feelings are portrayed
As I write the last word, my hand oh so sore
I pick up my poem and read it once more.