Papers
My paper is half written half empty,
half filled with dry salt.
I'm still climbing my fallen tree
in hope someone will follow me.
My paper is half painted blue half empty,
half full of knowledge.
I'm trying to cover that blue stain
so I left it outside on the rain.
My paper is in the box that's half empty,
half filled with colorful papers.
I sealed them for no one to see,
they're only joyful for me.
My papers are half written half empty,
half of them written by joy and half by regrets.
I tried to paint them different colour
but they're not even worth a dollar.
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