Blank Sheet

By Edmund Garcia (2023)

Sometimes I wish I had an eraser 

to wipe away the mistakes of my past. 

From the moment I wake to the fall of the night, 

each regret will everlast. 

I should have said something different, 

I should have been a bit more nice, 

I could have been a better person, 

I could have been more than what would suffice. 

I wish I took a few more risks 

and prayed on the roll of the dice. 

Instead, I’m left with monotonous memories 

of what I could’ve done instead. 

I’m left with apathy, 

I’m left with guilt, 

I’m finally left with all but what’s right. 

As I reflect on my face in the mirror, 

and in the water in my glass, 

I realize I shouldn’t omit everything 

or erase each event that would pass. 

An underline for each thought I hold dear, 

a mark to show how I’ve amended, 

to show growth and acceptance 

is better than pretending it hasn’t occurred. 

Instead, I emphasize my fondest memories 

to be proud of what I’ve done. 

I’m left with fulfillment, 

I’m left with nostalgia, 

I’m able to look back with a smile and take a step forward 

Now I reread each line, prioritizing the underlined, acknowledging the unedited, and no longer try to be discreet. 

What good is a good person’s character 

if it’s only on a blank sheet?