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A single piece of paper holds a story
From being a clean sheet to a crumpled piece
Even if you try to fix it
The creases won't disappear.

A paper is a companion
Where you can write your opinion,
Draw, color, paint on or anything that you can think of
But it can never be back to it’s original form.

You found me useful
Keep me in your arms
But you let go once your done
Throw me as if I'm a piece of trash.

Paper crumples by many circumstances
It can be made of nature or accidents
Some intentionally tossed away and forgotten
Even after it was cherished, kept and hidden.

Sadly, a paper can't remain clean and wonderful
It can be made for good use
But they're also torn into pieces,
Crazy like how it is on nightmares.

But maybe this is how it should be
After everything that had happened
I'll still end up being nothing but a crumpled paper
As you pick another in your drawer.

I am the paper and this is my story...

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Writer_Lhey