the mind ponders

i am like a page in an unopened notebook; i am completely blank except for some lines... as yet, i do not know what they are for; what purpose do i have in this life? what am i but a mere folicle on this wide, and uneven plain? i have done my work, yet what it comes to is yet to be seen. i know that i have so much to give ans share, talents and gifts, love and happiness, but if only others could see it too, how wonderful that would be! to be aknowledged and appreciated is the greatest honour that can be bestowed upon a person; if only i could have that honour! i lie in wait for the day when an eye will be caught by the sight of me, and i will be raised up and praised, and i will become finally full... for now, , i am just an empty page among other empty pages in an as yet unopened notebook. i have some lines, though... can someone appreciate their existence and fill them...?