Piece of Paper

October 7, 2008
White scrap on the table
Lined and hole-punched for use
Waiting for that English essay
Or equations for math homework

Lying there all alone
Empty like the writer’s heart
Only the weight of a pencil holding it down
From
Freely
Flowing
In
A




Breeze

Hot under the intense light of a lamp
Faded from the ages of no use
Yearning for the writer’s touch
To give it purpose





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