Write it out for me.

I look back,
so much time has past,
I start to remember,
the wrong path...

What I have done,
Has made me who I am,
What I have done,
Has left me with what I have.

It hurts to remember,
The silly mistakes,
Which have risen so vividly,
Within the scars of my heart.

His mistakes,
resemble mine,
to such an extent,
that I try to forget.

You dig through,
the pages of my memory,
and penetrate deep within,
the golden departure.

And yet, one thing keeps me hanging,
within this thin line,
that I have lived by,
One thing keeps me alive.

A smile comes upon my soul,
and I fly away in peace,
knowing that my mistakes,
Are lessons which will never cease.

Lessons of life,
Which have taught me how to live,
Lessons of life,
which everyone has to live.

So don't close your eyes,
and tremble.
Close them, and wait,
Because the colors of life
Will return.

As you blink again,
you notice that despite your mistakes,
It is your friends,
that truly have not left.

With this in mind,
I close this open novel,
Leaving the unanswered pages,
For another heart.

I leave the blank sheets,
For the future to write,
I leave the future,
in the hands of unused ink.

Have this pen,
and write these pages,
because your future,
is not determined,
because your future,
is a blank page,

A blank page,
Waiting to be written,
By tender hands and a pen,

A blank page,
Waiting to be written,
By you.