I jotted this poem down earlier this evening on a piece of scrap paper, and decided to share it with you all. Enjoy, and, as always, feel free to share your opinion on it!
A Blank Page
How could I let this blank paper go to waste
With yet so much potential between its light lines, meant to guide?
Crumpled as it may be; hardly at its best
But still as willing to hold words: powerful, exact, honest
How dare I rob it of the opportunity to hold–
To contain the beauty that is a poem; may it be sonnet, prose, or ode
Or may it be these few simple phrases about a blank page with guiding lines
And its right to bare the ultimate power that is words
Whether rhymed or not rhymed