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A Piece of Paper
Why am I blank?
Why was I left with no color when others have lines?
What purpose do I have when others are seen?
I am a blank piece of paper left all alone.
Stuffed in a folder lost and unknown.
When I think have been forgotten for good.
My folder opens, the light greets me like I hoped it would.
A tiny child takes me delicately in her hands.
Lay's me down but then just stands.
She picks up her crayons and begins to draw.
No longer blank though I still stand alone.
Now I have color and somewhere to go.
A very proud mother looks down at me
And hangs me on the fridge for all to see.
I may be different and stand from the crowd.
But I have my true colors and for that I am proud.
There is one thing I learned from my time all alone.
As long as I'm me there's no place I can't go.
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I wanted to write from the point of view of a piece of paper and this is what came to mind. Some of it is from my own feelings and this is the result.