Unwritten

The story unwritten, the pages sit empty

so many sheets ripped up, thrown away like confetti

ink blotted where jotted sketched words come from the brain

nothing flows right, the ink spills but the words refrain

The story still to write, its sweetest embrace always the next

each day a new line in the book, a fairytale text

to play in time a dance of like minds

entranced in a story that they share blind

The story of the day, a drama or a tragic joyride

hopefully not a horror, thriller, serial killer on the side

just a tale as old as time

two hearts colliding to dance in their primes

A fictional dream, a comedy to lighten the tone

a world to create, to make our own

a story fit to leap from the page

to live amongst the greats and share the stage

The final page remains clear

always blank, it speaks of a future yet to appear

unwritten the story doesn't end

just each day ours to mix the perfect blend

Thanks for reading,
Peace and love
Kyle.