20 January 2011

Blank Page

I think the color in which I'm most afraid,
Is white.
No, not afraid, but rather...lost.
Caught up in the whiteness,
With the potential for everything,
Yet extrinsically showing nothing.
A blank slate--literally.
Limitless except through the binds of my mind.
A marathon or sprint, the feeling is the same,
And until I've left my footprints,
Tracks in the form of words...
Then I've left the map unfinished,
And just as shadowy as the milky white
That lingers on every new page.

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