Something pulls me into these pages,
Cold, empty, hungry and silent pages,
They keep calling me, telling me “write”,
A struggle of fishing words, a ridiculous fight.
Papers, empty torn papers, sad trees,
Nature is calling with hives and bees,
Rivers flowing, wind blowing, I’m lost,
What about the torn papers all over the coast?
Confusion with nothing to gain,
I see your smile hiding behind your pain,
Getting to know is like reading a book in darkness,
A precious book that you keep reading, endless…
19 January 2013