I stared at a blank page,
searching for inspiration.
Into the crevices of my memory.
Finding songs of melancholy,
in the daily silence.
The walls around me collapse,
Trapping me further in the clutches of despair.
“They don’t understand,
they don’t care,
they don’t even know how I feel,
And if I feel empty and bare.”
The chorus rung loud,
but not loud enough to reach there.
“This will suffice,
this will paint the canvas bright,
A story so strong,
the world will stop and take notice.”
So, I pick up the pen to let it out,
a verse of my own,
a visual so dark.
But the blank page stares back at me,
and the void overpowers my voice.
Yet another day passes,
and the page remains unmoved,
life goes on with so many stories,
that are yet to be told.