The first page between your hands br And you are afraid to decide, br Turn it over unfinished, br Or stay on, hold a pencil and write? br The story of standing still br Like an old gray straw, br The story of your dull life br With no tinge of happiness or hue br Of sweet madness. br The book of your lifetime, br After all these years, appears blank br And at page one you are still standing, br Wondering, br How to start with a stunning sentence br And beat the others. br But the sentence never comes br And you stand still, br Without turning the page over br Nor fill it br With the boring story of yours.