An empty room.
Pen and paper sit in view.
Suspended in thought,
Creativity and imagination rule this spot.
Pen to paper, ink flows free,
This place of peace for me to flee.
Still alone, its a beautiful waste.
Sacrifice the ink again, so company may fill this space.
More colors leak, and colors spill.
This once white land, the colors fill.
Build and speak, high and fast
Make it better, make it last
Until one day you forget your past.
Now fire licks, and fire rages,
All across these once white pages.
The final days come,
And the last pass on.
Company's ideas now forgotten,
They sink back into what I regret turned rotten.
New flowers bloom, and water flows
They fill the land, turning it white as snow.
Silence surrounds, and silence fills
Until a sound is made, thats soft and still.
A leap towards something real.
Run to the place where you can truly feel!
Pen and paper crash to the floor,
Imagination is needed no more.
- Title: White
- Artist: Roobledooble
- Description: A poem I have been working on and off on for almost a month now that was inspired by a dream. I edited this 5 times before I was somewhat happy with it. Please tell me what you think.
- Date: 12/02/2008
- Tags: white