a blank old piece of paper
discreetly lacking words
not a single picture
nor a story to be heard
a plain white piece of paper
with so much fresh potential
yet the secrets in the lines
remain completely confidential
waiting for that person
with ideas in their head
who wants them written down
and wants them to be read
and that is when i realize
the blank page i had before
disappeared before my eyes
and is blank no more.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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