Emptiness

Staring down a blank page.

How am I going to explain this,

and what good would it do?

I remember as if it was yesterday, or,

a thousand years ago.

The view from the roof is enormous…

these are just words.

Surely there must be more than this,

but, why do I think that, and,

where would it be?

The meaning of life, what we’re looking for,

is space itself…no wonder we can’t find it!

If no one reads this poem,

was it ever written?