Blank and staring,
daring me to fill the emptiness.
The pen.
Filling my blank world
with the silky, night black, beautiful ink.
The words.
Sprouting like trees,
growing into a great masterpiece.
The poem.
A magic spell
to capture and hold its audience.
I was doing a major clean-up of my disaster of a room (think hurricane hit area, and you've got it), and I found a notebook with some old poems of mine. This poem, the first in the book, was kind of my gateway drug into the world of poetry. I had written it for a school district-wide poetry/illustrations contest called "Urban Voices" when I was in grade 6, and it got published. Back then, I didn't realize that this poem would open up the door and reveal my love of poetry, so I'm thankful that I managed to get the chance to write it as part of the contest :)
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