Quite a big subject to tackle in my first blog post but here's my thoughts:
Life is but a sheet of paper, sounds simple but it's true
We all start out a clean white sheet, but it's what we each go through
That colours in that clear white sheet, defaces, tears or folds
Sometimes bright and colourful, the stories that are told
Others we'd prefer to rewrite, hindsight a wonderful thing
Yet often the greatest journeys are masked behind a sting
And these define us, make us strong, shape our learned way
Attempting to rewrite or wipe the written can leave pains that stay
Does it matter that our sheet gets filled, scribbled on or tainted
Worn around the edges, smudged, well and truly painted
Is it better to accept ourselves and rejoice our colourful wealth
Than try to make the sheet look clear and shiney, superficial health
It appears to be essential, to look good for the masses
With different styles and fashions to match our social classes
Life like this seems not to bring happiness and health
The single law that provides this is simple - love yourself
