As my eyes, settle on a book,
Full of questions,
As I hear, the voices of those,
Around me,
My eyes waver towards the page,
At the top of my desk,
I lean closer,
And it seems to whisper something
To me.
To pull me close,
Into what seems to be,
Something never ending.
As my fingers,
Gently grace the smooth white
Paper,
As I pull the emptiness towards me,
Something unseen,
Something unheard of,
Stirs up inside me.
A force that can be defined,
Only by nature itself.
I look at the empty,
I look at the bare,
I see the plain,
But I hear something else.
I hear a destiny that needs to be
Fulfilled.
I hear the pages tell me,
To fill them,
With all my hearts desires.
I suddenly think not of what it lacks,
But rather the endless possibilities,
I think of the hope,
The power that it is able to posses.
How many lives have been created,
Dreams have made true?
With only a single glance,
In the direction,
Of a blank paper?
So I give in to its' urges,
Its' urges to make this world,
Perhaps not a better place,
But a brighter place.
Perhaps not a place with more smiles, But a place with less tears.
I see beautiful white spots,
Like dazzling stars,
That dance before my eyes,
Taking no space,
In a place,
Where space belongs.
I see not blank paper,
I see a world,
Neatly sculpted,
Into the form,
Of a blank paper.
~n.s
(A/n: this is sort of another take on the first poem called blank paper. Which one did u like more?
Xoxo
Nikita)
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Poetic Justice
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