Lines

The lines on my paper are just balnk marks
No words in between
I stare at this paper
And before my eyes these lines form
They were straight and perfect
Now they are faces and curves
A new city is formed
A world of unknown and reknown
These lines on my paper
Are now a plane to escape on
To a place so near yet so distant
These lines are straight and perfect
As I write between them
And form a new world
Of my own





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