Fresh Page

Every page I turn

Is ripped, torn, or burnt.

Every page I turn

Has nothing new to learn.

The sharp edges

Cut my fingers.

Just a drop of blood

On the destroyed page.

I’m sick of this,

My book of memories.

I’m sick of this,

Want to turn over a new leaf.

And all I have to do

Is gather some courage

To turn over a

Fresh page.

For Poetry 101 Rehab: Decisions