Poem -
CLEAN SHEET
You look at me
lying there,
unblemished,
Pure in my whiteness
as if you don't know
what to do with me.
You look at me,
empty,
untouched,
vulnerable,
defenseless,
exposed without protest.
You look at me,
ready to attack
with pen in hand,
thoughts in mind,
and give me virtue.
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Comments
Dynamic piece of work. Encouragement for defeated writers. Powerful poem.
Thank you Ravindra. A nice clean sheet of paper can inspire me...