This page was blank
Not very long ago
These words in a stack
messed up the white show.

This heart was all clear
Till you turned up
caused many a tear
And drank merrily from the very cup.

Embers of memories burn
And feed the present fire
Better than the gun
The ink takes all the ire.

Rage urges to tear
The page that once was
Prudence, to rub off and dare
the heart with no loss.

Impressions remain
On the paper though
Today, try to recall in vain
No traces left, tomorrow.