Paper
A pen in my hand
A paper on a stand
My pen ploughs like a tractor
But with each new intention the paper gets tore
Just like the ones before.
The pen leaves my hand
The paper leaves the stand
The story on it,
Creates the best conflict
YOU ARE READING
Thorns of Life
PoetryVOLUME 1 If time could turn back in clocks Maybe then I'd free you from those locks If time travel were possible To the past, for you I would go I would save you from yourself Give you some helpful advice I wish I could do things differently, Maybe...
