I wish I could write on the paper
The pain, I feel, making me shatter
Like glass, carelessly placed on a platter
But its dreariness can cut its violin viola.
I wish I could write on the paper
The bereft that forced my mind to sober
But its heaviness can engulf paper’s flicker
And suck out the breath of its gorgeous titular.
I wish I could write on the paper
The ugly lyrics like rocket of bazooka
But the orogenic rhythm could turn it –weaker
The strength in its lines that makes it in order.
I wish I could tell the deaf paper
–turning it, verily, to my bosom brother–
The sorrows and forlorn that make me bother
But its bodiless; it doesnt has a shoulder.
                             

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