Blank Page, Remember Me

A revamped and musically evolved version of an old poem of mine.

Blank page, remember me

Bare witness to this tragedy

Blank page, remember me

A six foot tall metaphor, allegedly

Blank page, remember me

Hear me, Feel me, Think me, Remember me

& will you pen please, will you bleed for me?

Fill this empty canvas & remember me!

Blank lines, become exposed

Take some time now, reload

Blank page, spill your being

Take time now & recollect me!

BLINDLESS, KINDLESS

LIFELESS, MINDLESS

TIMELESS, LINELESS

SIGNLESS, SIGHTLESS

CRIMELESS, FIGHTLESS

WISELESS, EYELESS

TYPELESS, SIZELESS

PAGELESS, REMEMBER THIS!

Lost between creation and existence

Defined life chopped full of fictions

Typecast along perforated pages

Hungry pen has eaten all the mages

Magically then bleed the ink

Drain the pen & raise the king

Masses in the mind honored to praise thee

The sole leader of these neurons,

REMEMBER ME!

Little boy so scared of the world

Little girl hurt because her heart is spoiled

Parents trapped in the perpetual dream

None can escape it as the pen it bleeds

Bound and put together through genetic means

Family horror story but nothing's as it seems

A troubled lot can't let go of the thrills

Innocents underage playing a game that kills

BLANK PAGE, REMEMBER ME!

Childhood fog lifting softly

BLANK PAGE!

Take some time now

REMEMBER ME!

REMEMBER ME!

Smile clown; happily down

Etched ink; stains think

whispers of memories

recalling the daydreams

empty page once forgot me

remain calm

witnessing

a blank page

remembering........

Reviews

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

The first stanza alone is sheer perfection! It is replete with so much honest emotion that it's virtually impossible for the reader not to feel it. We all want to be remembered.

I was drawn to you first because of your name. I have an older brother that was put up for adoption that I've never seen, and his name is Michael Christopher.

In addition to this, I discovered when I was 19 that the father, whom I had always thought died in Vietnam, had actually committed suicide when I was four years old. When I found his grave, I discovered that it was an unmarked grave. My mother didn't even have the decency to put his name on his grave. Instead, it was a number that matched up to a map in the office. I immediately purchased a marker for his grave.

Since then, I've always thought how sad it was to be buried all alone, unmarked, unhonored, and unremembered. So, for these two reasons alone, this poem really speaks to me.

Great job!

[Christopher Michael Smith]

Wow. I'm speechless to this review. I thank you. I shed a tear for it. You are amazing.