Paper Bag
By sidewinder
Looking on this windy day I see a paper bag floating, Beautiful in the sky, Trying to be free from this confinement, Innocence now gone, Deprived of its use, Crumpled and wasted, And why? Those reasons much forgotten, Only met in sadness, Where it was once was needed, But now rejected, And to never give up, Fighting to stay, Having a purpose, Waiting to be wanted, To be filled once more, But how? At the moment of being discarded, One picks it up, Recycles it, And now it starts a new life. Aug. 1, 2000 By: B.E. Whitehorn & Ardennia CooperWritten January 10th, 2002 © on Jan 10 2002 08:22 AM PST, Billy E. Whitehorn other
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"Looking on this windy day..."