A Poet's Confessional

I've never seen anything more beautiful than a blank sheet of paper
I find solace in making it mine, the scribbled-out words
and smudges scattered throughout these pages
the ripped sheets that lie beyond the bindings of this book
all exemplifying how flawed and imperfect of a person I truly am.
These words I write echo my very existence
these syllables I etch match up with the exact creases in my heart
and the picture I paint is a high-definition replica of the world I see
If you want to know the real me, the nitty-gritty, uncovered me
absorb my ink, take in my words; you'll find me scattered
in every pen
I've ever used.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem