 Papers
PAPERS
My heart was torn out,
Just like a piece of paper out of a notebook.
My heart was shred into a million little pieces,
Just like an old, bad poem that the author did not like.
So many times.
So many poems.
When will it end,
When will there be no more pieces of paper left to tear out of the notebook?
When will there be no more pieces of my heart that are left to love, or be loved?
I can feel it,
I can taste it,
I can fell the end, of the notebook.
I can feel the end of my life....
For the end of your notebook will result in the end of me..........For good...... | 
العرض العادي
