Blank Page - Toy Matinee

Blank page numbly staring up at me

Daring me to try to be simple yet profound

Words alone for all that consciousness allows

Finally at a loss for how to say just what I found

I answered through an open door

Left by all who came before

With thoughts so rich, yet words so poor

For truths already spoken for

Reach within to find a misplaced bit of truth

In love or hate or age or youth

In what right’s piece of mind?

Close the book

Evasive truth still yet to find

A rhythm felt by twisted rhyme

When words get left behind

Well something snaps and then you learn

Chasing words is no concern

Then one by one they die in turn

With mild regret and hopeless yearn

Blank page numbly staring up at me

Escaping my apology

From a blank page left unsigned