Crumpled Piece of Paper

I wouldn’t write something I didn’t believe in.
That is obvious, isn’t it?
From mind to matter,
What takes form is of my own:
These are pieces of me,
Little shreds torn from my body of paper.
I rip my flesh and scrawl something,
Nonsense made tangible,
And pin it on a bulletin board
Next to the Announcements. 
Tomorrow you’ll have the day off.
Can you think of me then?

-k.r.r.