The Empty Canvas

an empty canvas sits in front of me

waiting patiently to see

what i will do, what will i create?

something beautiful? maybe a drop of hope.

what if thats not how i feel? this is how i cope.

maybe it will be sad and dreadful.

no one will understand but me

i think, that is the key

it’s something only i know

because secrets fill my mind

that’s it! the key to life!

and the key to death.

i keep it all bottled up

away for myself

while it kills me from the inside out

but they keep me sane

they tell me that i am special

that i am unique

and have enough worth to live