December 17, 2011
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A simple sheet of paper,
Eight by eleven inches of pure imagination.

Folded, it’s a majestic crane,
Soaring between the clouds of creativity,
Gliding along the ocean of originality.

Cut, it’s a unique snowflake,
Drifting in the sky of conception,
Floating to the land of fantasies,
Wobbling on the edge of perception.

Written on, it’s a story,
Pulling readers into the world of mystery,
Drowning them in a sea of discovery.

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