I sit and I stare...

I wrote this entry in my journal a month after my 16th birthday. It is another poem, but this one seems more like the sillier me I remember...

I sit and I stare at a spot on the wall

When the spot fades, I'm sure I'll se nothing at all

I'll sit and I'll stare where the spot used to be

I'll sit and I'll think what that spot meant to me

I'll sit and I'll think and I'll stare at the place

Where the spot used to be before the spo fell from grace

"Do spots have a heaven?" I'll ask of the wall

But I know that the wall wil say say nothing at all