Loose Leaf Paper

A fresh leaf of paper, never used

Placed before voracious palms

The paper takes in each and every anxious qualm

He scribbles his notes between the lines

Hidden meaning behind mendacious eyes 

Once he's done the life within the story becomes cold

He crumples up the paper; the words have become old 

He's ready for a new tale, he rises to leave

I wasn't finished, but this story was never about me 



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