A Blank White Surface

A blank white surface is not only one’s turf
From the trees and then from the earth
A story that is, and will be free
That lets the pencil draw while the ink screams
To beg for two stories more than one
About protesting to protesting against someone
To have more emotions, opinions for all
Let there be no fence, absolutely no wall
A blank white surface can change from hot to cold
From the trees and then from the earth the stories will be told.