Blank Poem by Timothy Lee Hollandsworth Jr.

This paper is my mind,
This pen is my imagination.
Free to run wild,
Right now I'm drawing a blank.
All I see is blind,
No colors, or celebration.
Dream of being a child,
The innocence of life without rank.

Hate these lies,
But love the thrill.
Hate the chase,
But keep chasin too.
A young man dies,
Or was he killed?
In his last moments,
His heart would race,
His face turn blue.

A young mother cries,
Seeking the tranquil.
You can feel her grief,
All you offer her is pity.
You should fear the skies,
Instead you fear this girl.

Blank, your blood runs cold.
Blank, can't believe the story you're told.
Blank, in your arms you need someone to hold.
Blank, Blank.

A little baby screams,
His mother runs.
Lost sight in the dark,
And our little story ends.
As I lay here I dream,
Life has only just begun.
And I make my mark,
Another story begins.

I see a group of men - a team
Holding close to their guns.
There's the coarseness of sand,
There's the cold nights.
The blood of men gleams,
Under the the red hot sun.
Their fate seems obvious and bland,
Barely surviving the nightly fights.
The story we're told, isn't what it seems,
And as many before them,
They fight a war that can't be won.

Blank, your blood runs cold.
Blank, can't believe the story you're told.
Blank, in your arms you need someone to hold.
Blank, Blank.

My mind is going blank.
The world is going insane.

Everything is going blank,
Can't believe the story you're told.