Oh how you mock me with blank expression!
Your white wings flutter and posses no flaw
Unstained and void of any confession
You confuse and force my pen to withdraw
Empty pages display no expunction:
Neither erasure nor trace of human fault
Livid and with furious resumption
I continue my colorful assault
Yet who am I to destroy purity?
Is my creative impulse justified?
Suddenly ideas are impurities
And inspiration leaves me horrified
Naïve ideas will be left to age
And your loose leaflets will serve as a gage