I Am But A Sketch

I am but a sketch;
left lonely on the page
wavering uncertainly
agains the white,
bland backround.

I am a few lines
thrown together,
with no real purpose
I do not know
what to do.

I simply sit there
unwanted,
unneeded,
and unknowing
to what is next.

I am but a sketch,
confused at my purpose,
not knowing who I am,
simply standing on the page,
not really knowing.