there is just a blank page when I look down with a pen in my hand

with all the thoughts in my head the beginning is excited 

which will turn into a reason that I have decided to write you

why did you stop to gander?

what are you looking for?

my hopes are to captivate you in an essence of clarity

i stare at all the crumpled pages on the floor and ripped edges at the top of this pad 

crippling my journey in reminder of my stagnation

I still wish to finish what I came to do

canceling a quest for something we desire should come to an end due to frustration 

this shall be the death of us

the best part of us 

through the pressure of forcing myself to press a pen to paper with words that endure your heart I don't stop 

no matter how my mind idles or how I lose faith

there's too much to say

I have so much to do inside your mental cavity

as do you

with all our past events and all our thoughts that grow us into more dimensional beings 

each mind is a gift to a another

a fellow conception is just a mirror of another's possibility

maybe some dont take the chance 

some may overlook this duty

it could be a rejection of abilities

so in perceived responsibility, I live to write