I like the piece of paper that my mind is made of
the trees standing before me
mocking me
can I count how many amazing things I have already invented myself to be
but I never felt that any of them were my purpose
and nature remains sovereign
mocking me
I feel some power to survive by my hands
you must have noticed how lucky I was despite having no goal
there are several paperweights over my head
always lowering my will, my desire and my spirit
the freezing winter winds in my ears
mocking me
this blank paper page flies
and rules silently in the world through the crowd
