The Paper
down on the paper,
my words sink.
tasting my flavor;
My soul,
the paper wants to drink.
dressing in black ink,
my plume dance.
It draws my thoughts in a blink,
It shows you how I think.
It shows you my mind,
when my breath is over.
happy, sad, high or sober;
the paper tells everything.
Copyright © Yosra Khardani | Year Posted 2013
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