If I had a choice
I would be a piece of paper
I could always lie around anywhere I pleased
I would never hear anyone call me horrible names
I could always feel someone else's emotion as they write on me
I would be able to feel human tears as they ran down my face
I could be tickled with the scratches of a pen or pencil
I would enjoy the ride when the wind would swift me off the table
I could hurt you with just a small cut but I wouldn't mean it
I'd be around forever if you'd let me
Then years would pass
I would turn faded colors and disappear
Exactly like the ink that once was
Only to be used and neglected like the real world
I would be tossed a side
Put away
Hidden from others eyes
I would be later known as "trash"
and
I would disappear forever!
"9/7/99"
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