Some say that the scariest thing is a blank page,
But to me, it has always been the most comforting thing,
A paper that is opening, welcoming and waiting to become anew,
Through words, sentences and new dogmatic principles.
A blank page has yet to enforce an agenda, it is not pulling you and pushing you, it is not demeaning you,
It is merely welcoming you into its world,
By allowing you to create your own.
A page, can we just humanize it for a second,
What if the paper had its own predetermined principles, what if this paper itself has a purpose other then being defiled by my many burdens,
Should it not have the right to be free of my pen and thoughts.
Sometimes, I feel comforted by the notion of an empty paper, it is forthcoming in its emptiness,
And we are the ones that fill it,
It expects nothing of us, but who we are in the moment,
And in the moments that we pen our worlds, it becomes one with us.
The beauty of the blank page, the world therein,
But yet to be explored,
It awaits us earnestly, it waits to be reborn,
A blank page gives its life,
For our strifes to come to life...
I hope to one day be a blank page to those in my life,
I hope to one day influence people to discover their worlds through me,
I hope to allow people to venture into fullness through my "emptiness",
Maybe I can learn more from a blank page,
May others find their "worlds", through my own, that I penned on each blank page...
