A poem

“I Don’t Know”

3/31/06


I don’t know,

that’s the scary part.

My future is blank, a white sheet strung across the front window.

A can of red paint and a wooden paintbrush lie nearby.

Light shines through the thin white sheet,

but all I see is shadows.

The room is noisy, but completely empty,

a crooked picture hangs on the wall.

But the window still has my attention.

The shadows grow blurry, the window slowly fading,

as the picture frame slowly straightens.

But I close my eyes, and walk forward

nearing the vanishing window.

But the wind blows,

and the sheet shifts,

I smile.

The sheet is now splattered in red, the paint can half empty.
The paintbrush covered in red.