blank

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My canvas is stained with memories  Ink seeping from its white sheets like blood Pooling into puddles of thoughts, feelings, expressions The red rage that builds up inside me
Today is frozen in blue and white we live to stall upon a blank page This picture, now a photograph In black and white
honestly at this point i have absolutely no idea what to do anymore.
Skies are gray and flat The crunchy leaves stir about  I color blank streets 
How can an absence of matter provide so much intimidation? Your pure white eyes glaring at me with utter frustration, Screaming at me to try, to experiment, to dream
I sit alone, think about somethingWhere is my life destined towards?Is it towards what I aspire forOr is it towards what I'm inspired forAll of us can cogitate about itBut no one can declare what is it
The gun that was held in his hands killed many and wounded more.  His actions wounded those in the inclosed location as well as those across the nation.  I have never been so horrified of what lies behind someones closed eyes.
White it is invisible in all colors but one.Love it is only visible in the deepest darkest black. THat is what they have in common.
My reflection is in my eyes And in my hands They are always moving Trying to find an abode Trying to find a cause Looking upon the distant faces With no color to define them
 sometimes my mind goes blank
Breathe Take a second to breathe A diaper needs changed Immediately I'm a father. You Intimidated by nature A pill bends my creator Finally I'm relieved of anxiety
"Why don't you try writing what you feel down?" Write it in a poem Write it in a song Write it in a story I can do that Will that help me? Writing my emotions down Ok I think
Why do I still wake up? I ask myself. Why don't I still my breathing and die? Because... because I still have to live, still feel A sense of obligation to finish what I started.
I feel like a blank paper and nothing more absent of color, tone, and glow  
My paper, Blank and voidNothing comes to mindAs I write, nothingInspire me I sayStill I have nothingMy poetic words, lost
Blank The page is blank What should I write?   Should it be a sad poem? How about a poem about death? Love Poems? What should I write?   You only write once
A whispering breeze rolls through a quiet neighbourhood. A chord giggles from the rooftops of a busy downtown. All is gone... All is vacant... With nothing but a Blank canvas left to paint.
A blank page   just sitting, waiting,   for my words.   A blank page   just sitting, waiting,   for an adventure.
  Page with honest face Mirror for the soul To write down what cannot be said; Mere feelings will not hold   Canvas with still grace Reflection for the eyes
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