A Blank Page
My life was quite a blank page,
before you wrote this story;
Then what I see was an image,
drawn there to be a memory.
I kept the page and would read,
everything that was written;
She filled it, and I did not need,
anything more to be smitten.
Suddenly, I noticed her feeling,
tended to play with my heart;
And I continued to her writing,
it was different from the start.
Her story was washed in tears,
before I could finish reading;
Then I folded it, but with fears,
reminding myself her heading.
The story proved to be a mirage,
and then faded away slowly;
My life, still a white blank page,
has no painting, and memory.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
