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The White Piece Of Paper

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I cannot write because the words won’t come
And while I write these words
My mind finds its paradise
Hand loops around the pen, holding, never letting go meeting the white piece of paper.
Pen meets paper, gliding, smoothly …
Okay
A little bit bumpy,
Moving like they were meant to be together
But no no
Not forever.
Slowly the pen dies
Keep gliding
Keep swerving
But slowly someday the ink will run out
And the paper will be covered with worthless letters and worthless ink
It will be lonely once again
Waiting for another partner to come along
But who?
That’s life
Not knowing who will come is the easiest part
But who will stay is the hardest
Why can’t the pen last?
The paper obviously like the soft tough
The swerving, the twirling, oh the beautiful glide
He enjoys it
And yes,
She might go a little bit rough but nothing in life can go so smoothly
But he deals with her delicate touch and screeches to a halt and tells her
STOP! , it’s too much!
She then questions her love for the demanding but loveful
Piece of Paper
And slowly, quietly
Turns
To the other
Page
She continues
Trying to please her aggressive lover
But when will her love for him stop
When is it enough?
She knows they’re not right
Cause everything she does goes absolutely wrong
But she keeps gliding
Swerving softly then
Oops
One mistake and he’s groaning once again
He tells her to continue
Better this time, because there is still little space for her.
But
She
Doesn’t
Move
Nothing
Blank
She gives up.
Not ending his sandpaper feel of white lines
She loses her grip
Departing from the white field
Losing the long awful battle.



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