PAPER
I am made from the trees, as thin as a hair
I feel the graphite being spread across my body, it is stabbing me like a knife in the side
The harsh erasing when they make a mistake
The drawing, writing and even the scribbles
When they are done they put me away
I am finally taken out again and ripped in half then I am thrown away
I was a piece of paper that was drawn and written on, now I'm only a pile of trash
Rio
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