My heart is speaking,
My hand is stretching,
My pen is poised above this paper.
But there is no ink,
There are no words,
It's just a blank canvas
With not even one verse.
It's hard sometimes to write the truth,
To write in where someone wrote you out.
It's painful to know the depth of the truth,
That even the hurt that my heart speaks about,
Refuses to be written out in truth.
Because God forbid this current truth sticks.
