The Uncharted Map

I unfurl the parchment, crisp and bare,

A canvas for the life I'm meant to share.

I watch as others etch their paths with ease,

Their lines so sure, their journeys seem to please.

With trembling hand, I try to mimic theirs,

But ink refuses, leaving only tears.

The map stays blank, a mirror of my fears,

A testament to all my unshed years.

But wait--- what's this?

A whisper in the wind,

"Your path's unwritten, waiting to begin."

I pause and see the beauty of the white,

A world of possibility, so bright.

With newfound courage, I begin to trace,

Not lines of others, but my own embrace.

A winding rooad, an unexpected turn,

Each mark a lesson that I've come t learn.

The map grows rich with hills I've yet to climb.

With seas uncharted, waiting for their time.

I see the beauty in the spaces clear,

For they hold promises of what's drawing near.

This map, unfinished, is a work of art,

A testament to my still-growing heart.

For in its blank spaces, I now see,

The endless possibilities of me.

So let it stay uncharted, wild, and free,

For that's the journey that was meant to be.

Each day a new adventure to unfold,

On this, my map, both humble and bold.