The heart is beating...
My dearest piece of paper,
How I've missed you once,I miss you still.
Even so,again as a traitor,
I rejoice the same,after paying my bill..
You could have been right,or could have been wrong,
Where once you sought,you had foretold.
Of the coming of things that must always fold,
Lovely,beautiful still,yet what a sad song.
I miss those old days...
I miss them even more as I see the new ones unfold.
All the traces,all that which none could hold.
A sad news today,for me,even sadder it reveals tomorrow,
Yet none wish to grief,and I'm left to flush the sorrow.
We will meet again fair piece of paper.
Normally there's room for some,
Yet today it seems,there's room for none.