There are erased words,
Hidden behind these.
There is a meaning,
That no one shall see.
There are hundreds of pages,
Of unsaid words.
There are thousands of books,
Waiting to be written.
There is a mind,
Holding this pen.
And there is doubt,
That makes it shake.
There are worlds,
That will never appear.
There is a pain,
That will never ease.
There is an anger,
That burn nations.
There is a sadness,
That drowns your home.
There are a lot of things,
That I could talk about.
And there is the fear,
That hold them back.
There is panic,
Tears and screams.
There is love,
Joy and heartbreak.
There are thousands of letters,
That were never sent.
There are hundreds of poems,
That will never be read.
There are erased words,
Hidden behind these.
There is meaning,
That no one shall see.
