A Blank White Page, just plain, just white
No stains from overflowing ink, nor over-scribbled words,
No cancellations from errors that weren’t meant to be.
Yes! Life starts as A Blank White Page, and I am the writer,
The author with so many ideas but with the fear to mess them up
Call it writer’s block, call it reluctance, call it procrastination
Call it whatsoever you may
It’s still going to be A Blank White Page until I pick up the pen, until I write.

How many books have I read?
How many poems with words so mighty that I must confess?
Still, my page is plain and empty, but oh! if I just try…
Maybe it could end with an "Amen"
Maybe it could end with "The End"

I’m scared to mess up the words because I know it has to be perfect
Still, how will I know if I do not pick up the pen and write?
I can stay scared and fill the trash with blank papers no one will ever read,
I can say "Not today" and stay still
Or I can pick up that pen and turn A Blank White Page black
Black with words, words of meaning

No one ever got there with just A Blank White Page,
They got there with errors, with cancellations, with spilled ink
But most of all, with words.
At the end of the day, your life could end A Blank White Page,
Forgotten and never to be read
Or a book with stories worth being shared.
It’s your page, it’s your pen, it’s your story
It doesn’t have to be just A Blank White Page.