My blank page lays before me,
sitting alone, desolate and empty.
With no words to fill its deserted lines,
my life is un-defined.
A pen lingers forever over this gloomy page,
my mind ensnared in an un-breakable cage.
I'm reaching for something in the distance,
but it drifts away, only staying for an instance.
Something barricades my mind,
leaving me enmeshed and confined
to my room where a flickering light casts
mocking ghosts that snicker and laugh.
But this is my pen I hold in my hand,
I can draw my own dreamland.
No one can write your story for you.
Only I know my own value.
Go outside and wash away the sin,
theres no reason to stay hidden.
Today is when your book begins,
the rest is still unwritten.
TuckEr EllsworTh

