I drew a line on an empty page
The line became a smile
I drew a line that stretched for eternity
I drew a line that went for a mile
I drew a line on the desert sand
To mark the places I have been
Other lines for other times
And others for faces I have seen
I drew a line I couldn’t cross
I drew a line across my skin
I marked a path so clear and true
A line between my needs and whims
I drew a line that promised love
Another steeped in hate
Yet more lines of promises broken
A cold hearth, an empty grate
All these lines that I have marked
Lines to make my history
To mark moments of deepest glee
And the darkest chains of misery
Have I learned a lesson from my pencil’s scrawls?
Or shall I continue on the lane
Of drawing words, inspirations
Will I take them to the grave?
I have drawn lines all my life
Is this all that is left for me?
I have no room left for guilt at all, why should I
Apologise for being me?