I AM A PIECE OF PAPER The ink will never walk out of me. I know this. I am its piece of paper, blue or green. I am an emerald spring or a rainy autumn with brown leaves. I melt in a summer's heat. I float in a winter's silver mist. My worn out slippers don't leave my feet. I can climb up the mountains only in my dreams. I am a piece of paper for my dripping ink. My worn out slippers won't last or will. I am a piece of paper for my inkpot's quill. Patience is stubborn in its helplessness. I can find a bench to sit. The bench doesn't have wheels. The bench doesn't have wings. O, no, it has both in my blue ink.