What if each wave was to wash away
All of the thoughts coming my way
And my mind became a blank space;
Of last thought, there was no trace.
In complete oblivion my mind is now
And no one will ever try to endow
Me with a thought that was their own;
Now my mind and body are left alone.
I, on a new path, will have to start
And pretend that I can play the part
Of a poetry writer who is trying to find
A new poem God will place in my mind.
Words come out and arrived in my pen;
I jot them down over and over again
And I always start out with a clean slate
So a better poem is my final fate.