Paper

It was white and thick, As I held it to light, I could see the viscosed fibres, woven intricately tight, as I lovingly massaged its surface, it felt smooth and flat, they had treated it with chemicals, to get all that, now that it was in my hands, my hands itched to get it to use, but its pristine beauty, made me tough and I refused, the paper was preseved the way it was, for long and do not how long, I got about business, and almost forgot about the paper, long time down the line, may be decades, mind that I had shifted locations, several times and moved luggage, I was clearing the clutter, amongst them was the paper, that had struck me with pristine beauty, however,now it was not so, the pristine white had turned to pale ugly yellow, with brown blemishes shouting in bellows, in fact I refused to recognize it, and threw it in garbage like several others, untile the gust of wind that evening, blwe it from garbge bin to my window, and struck it on the window glass, there in the light I could see, the paper's intricately knit fibres, and the only brand mark, I ran outside to collect it now, I clutched it hard, as I sought to preserve it fast, now I knew age "yellows" all and sundry, however the beauty of a thing is a joy forever.