So empty, yet so full.
Filled with words yet to be laid out.
The words that would complete it.

So dull, yet so lively.
And yet the faint blue lines contain the words;
The words I can vaguely imagine.

But alas, they are there.
I can almost visualize them --
The words are on the tip of my pencil.

And slowly but surely, each word becomes clearer.
And each word makes its place onto the blue lines,
As I trace them from my mind . . .

Onto my blank canvas.