Black blank ink
trickles over a page of shapes,
filling holes, bridging gaps.
but not in a ‘Christian Brotherhood’ sort of way.
This is the past-time,
for an hour or two,
of the soul-hungry individual.
With this filling in he blocks out everything,
for an hour or two.
Who needs faces with holes,
when you have words without.
Agitation of hands. Strength of words. 
poetry does wonders doesn’t it?
better than medication surely.
Gotta love the power of writing.
…I like pencil better though. (Perfectionist.) Without an eraser, I’m lost…