A Fragment in Time

White pages, bare. The scent of the fresh sheet, the morning dew.  At the tip of the pen, my thoughts run through. Slowly inked, on the white pages and it goes on.

I got caught up in life, forgetting to write. I keep these thoughts deep in my heart. Lost back in time as the story goes by. White pages in my journal, I haven't been a while. 

A fragment in time and I had to take it slow. I grabbed my journal, I ready my pen. Tracing back the memories, but white pages no more and the scent of the morning dew, long gone. In the the passage of time, yellow-stained pages meets my eye. 

If only I paused and write at the same time. I could have appreciated life as it goes by. A fragment in time is what makes our lives. If only I wrote my thoughts once more, I never would have lost what I truly desire.

Yellow-stained pages was how the hands of the clock have gone by. This time, I will see to it, in the next chapter, I will read my best life! 

Thoughts on this short blog were inspired by the well-loved little notebook I bought cheap many years back. It has on the first page, a photo of my husband and daughter. Remembering how glorious was once those crisped white sheets and yet I haven't had any introductions written on it. As I once more came by it while sorting my little drawer of what-not, turning every page, seeing them withering with time. If only I had written what I suppose to when I bought it, it could have to this writing put a smile on my face.