A blank page sits in front of me.
What life this page will live, I get to make that be.
I write words and erase them, for they have to be perfect.
I want this page to be happy, not to be the reject.
If only I could talk to the page, ask it what it wanted,
Then maybe it's words could be flaunted.
I think of what would go together,
What words would rhyme, making it flow like a feather.
And once I place the words on the page,
I'll let it be free, and let it drift away.
Hopefully my words made it confident and strong,
Maybe those words will be made into a song.
But for now, they belong to the once blank page, and to the page alone.
Oh page, if you get noticed, do contact me by phone.
Allison S. De Arton
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