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A pencil gliding across paper Leaving behind empty And meaningless words Sentences that doesn't matter And stories that doesn't need to be told A blank piece of paper The white color Unstained Untouched Glaring harshly back at me As a drop of ink Falls from my pen Landing with a silent splash As it splatters onto the paper Stained canvases Are so much easier to work with Because they are already ruined Their innocence and perfection Ripped away Like that of a child's When they met reality and life I have no fear Of ruining a stained piece of paper Because even though The stain was made deliberately It still put an end to the innocence and perfection All people are just a piece of paper A canvas All born blank Whiter than the virgin snow But they become stained with splatters of this and that Representing our life The loss of newborn innocence And a child's lack of knowledge Of the cruelty of the world The loving the loss The breaking and the healing It is all there So clear against the white background Stained Are the humans That walk this earth | ||||||||||||||
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