The page is blank each morning—a pen is filled with ink.
It’s a story in the making—drawn from all the ways I think.
My actions choose direction—which words are penned on page.
Decisions made are changeless—though may fade in time with age.
Looking back to the beginning—can be painful, bitter sweet.
I will not dwell on choices—when I was foolish, lost and weak.
Today is a new chapter—written especially for me.
I’ll guide each waking moment—living happy, joyous, free.