A paper created with little worries
Yet, filled with such a story

A story that’s unheard by most
A story that’s ignored by most

Yet, pens aim at the paper
Without a broad and understanding perspective

And label its story very quickly
With nothing but a single glance.

But how can a paper complain
It can’t label itself after all

The paper just have to wait
For that one very special day

Where a special pen comes along
And labels its story just right.