A Blank Page Poem by Elia Michael

When I began this page was blank and white,
But now some words in black, if not in ink
Are on the screen and a few lines delight
In their existence, so I sit and think
Of other words constructing yet more lines
And giving life to more and more until
My mind is tired, and giving up, resigns,
Awaiting rest to then resume my quill.
So now I have composed two thirds of this
I am not sure of how to end this work
And I do hope that nothing is amiss
And you forgive the faults that here may lurk.
But I am here towards the rhyming couplet,
The only word I know that rhymes is 'doublet'.