Poetry 7.5

Imagine the floor is a blanket.

Flat, white, completely plain like paper

No sky, no clouds, no mountains, or scenery.

Just plain.

Then imagine yourself.

You could be standing.

You could be running.

You could be dancing.

You could be doing all of those things at once.

Now displace yourself and create.

Will your world have mountains?

Will it have nothing?

Would there be emotion fluttering in colour?

Or logic dripped in science?

Cruel politics? Magic heroes?

What would this world say about you?