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Sometimes,
I spend hours just lying on the floor,
Watching the sky change from baby blue
To paper white.
I feel like paper,
paper getting torn apart by
the wind and then beaten
into a pulp by the rain.
I wish God had made me a paper person,
Paper can't feel and I feel too much.
When I'm alone my head pounds
With the emotions thumping against my skull.
Wouldn't it be nice to be a paper doll
Within a line of other paper dolls? Then
I would never be alone and always
Have a hand to hold.
But they think I'm already like a paper doll;
Uninteresting,
Cold,
Blank.
No, definitely not a paper doll.
Glass; I'm more like glass.
A prism with too many sides to count,
Some of them ugly
But I reflect rainbows anyway.
- by Trivialness |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 06/01/2010 |
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![](https://graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/arena-images/ic_paper_corner_32x32.gif)
- Title: Paper Prisms
- Artist: Trivialness
- Description: Just something I had to get out of my head and on to the paper.
- Date: 06/01/2010
- Tags: paper prisms
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