Will Winslow
Ever slow
I don’t know
I also want to impart
That I’m not trying to be smart
When I show some heart
And pull this skill apart
On a lark or with purpose I start
To spill
So much ink intending to smother and kill
The concept of blank pages being white,
Bleeding letters until it turns black to eye sight,
And then it will be written upon in white ink
Until someone else has this thought that I think
And they storm up so many white words
That the blank page becomes bright blurbs
Blending with blood as critical knives sink
Changing that blank page pink
And then what color do you color the ink?
I’m asking YOU, so tell me already, what do you think!?