Ode to Paper

So thin, yet so strong

You are but a means to an end

Your expanses are empty

Waiting for the paint

Or ink

Of some tortured soul to invest you with meaning

Your destiny is not your own

You are shaped by the thoughts of others.

What a shallow existence!

And yet

The lack of substance

Begets your value to others

You act as an

Unbiased listener

A confidant to whom

We can grieve

And who will


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