Love can be like an empty book unwrit
White blank pages staring back at your face
Words yet to be carved in pale light grit
The mind is not prepared for such grace
Like music thoughts will flow onto paper
To make a work that will last through the age
Mist fills your brain as emotion sifts like vapor
The heart breaks free from its raw bare bone cage
All is now on the sheet to see, be read
You do not care about the fear of flak
Devotion now entering your sole head
Desperate to not seem like a lame hack
But it's too late, you went ahead and took
You accidentally wrote a nice book
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