Blank Sheet of Paper

There is a pen and pad laid
upon an old oak desk
that sits in the corner of the 
room against the white pale walls
Waiting for me to write down 
my life's greatest adventures
Because my life is like a open book
with a turn of a page

Full of my memories that are
buried deep within my soul
Of the good times and the bad
that are a seed deep within
So I sit behind the desk to write
but my hand starts to tremble

I could think of the words to
say but could not put down 
For my life is like an open book 
with a turn of  a page
Soon darkness will be upon me
as the clock strikes midnight 
Looking down at the pad still
clear and blank

I could tell you this you will 
never find out who I am
A person that was once full
of love but now empty 
Letting faith play with my
minds emotions 
Time is ticking as the pen
stills lay upon the pad

For the words I try to write
disappears in the sand of time
when the time come to read
the book of my life
All that you will see is the blank
pages staring at you