• I am paper.

    Forever bending to my master’s will.

    He bend’s me,

    He shapes me,

    Makes me his.

    I do not groan or protest,

    But rather form myself as he wishes.

    I allow him to tear me,

    To rip me and cut me.

    I am paper.

    Easily torn and broken.

    I can be fixed with tape,

    To appear whole and new.

    But on the inside,

    I bleed,

    Cry,

    And perish,

    bit by bit every day.

    I can be whatever he wants me to be,

    Will be whatever he wishes.

    My master,

    My creator,

    My lord.

    Flexible and silent,

    Pure and simple.

    Translucent skin,

    So pale and white.

    I am paper,

    I can do naught but what I am told,

    What is wished of me.

    I am emotionless as paper is.

    It seems sometimes,

    That I’m not even alive.

    I am paper