paper

Paper

Old piece of paper

Seen in the typeroll

May just be words, alone to you

But, to me

They are so much more

They tell of good times

They tell of the bad

Of days and nights

Long ago, but also not far away

They speak of truths I can’t say

And spill out imagination

I otherwise wouldn’t have

Just a piece of old paper, to you

The whole world to me

© Dicky J Loweman 2015