My Final Poem

A blank page.
It’s painful just to look at it,
It was my life back then,
Back when my mind was beautiful,
And my ideas would never end.
My poetry was a painting,
Colorful and bright,
But now I’m a barren wasteland,
All beauty out of sight.
I don’t know why my love has left,
Please come back into my heart,
So I can feel the wonder,
Of a completed work of art.
I struggle to even finish this,
A pain I can’t transcend,
I can’t think a single thing to say,
I guess this is the end.
Goodbye.
This is my final piece of poetry,
It hurts me just to write,
Maybe I’ll return someday,
When my world’s not black and white.