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Rated: E · Poetry · Writing · #1813682

A free verse poem about writing, or rather, not writing.

Blank page


It stares back at me,
its meaning so vague.

Looking at me,
a picture of meaning.

It speaks to me —
words I can't understand.

It laughs at me,
searching for my muse.

Mocking me
through a solid air.

The lines run into each other.
I struggle to separate them.

With no ink on this page
the story is told.




*2nd Place Winner in Charles' Monthly Poetry Contest

© Copyright 2011 Itchy Water~fictionandverse (deannarich at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1813682-BLANK