Home > Life, Personal, Poetry, Self-reflection > The Room and the Book

The Room and the Book

A white room;
A white floor
A white ceiling
White walls

How big,
Or small
No way
To say

The room is empty
Save for a chair
And a table
And a book

In the chair, I sit
For the book, I reach
A blank, white cover
Except ‘My Life’, in black

Tentitivly
I open it.
I stare at it.
All there is

Is a blank page

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