what you become

I’m a blank sheet, a book unwritten,

A sponge, as dry and brittle as the desert,

ready to soak up my surrounding,

no matter what it is, no biases,

taking in, paint, water, blood, fire, dirt,

everything and nothing,

brand new and yet so, so old.

The white becomes millions of colors,

Going through billions of possibilities,

All at once in a trillionth of a second.

It mixes together, 

the beautiful, brilliant shades, 

becoming dull, broken brown,

No matter what you add or what you change,

the brown stays,

and you always stay the same.