newness

a fresh page sits atop a stack of papers, that, equally clean and new and neat await the day of similar seat. the whitey new searches too for ink or graphite to fill in with sight. my life too waits for you to fill it and make my dreams come true. my pages, white, will be colored soon, if not by you then by some goon who dares to try to buy my love with his lie. so lover, come, and be the one that, worthy, fills my pages true. then ink and white and you might my fully loved be.