I was straight with a line
And every ink i get is fine
I get crumpled and bold
With words that cut like a knife
And get written in my life

I have a heart its work of art
It touch my soul to reach my every goal
I have desire but scared of fire
It turns my perfect lashes into ashes
And burn the pain like wet in rain

I get fold as i told
And crease but atleast I increase
Pen is my enemy
But its the only one that uses me
Am i just a tool?

Cause you never asked if its just cool
Maybe I'm just a fool
Thinking my paper heart was a work of art
Cause every part of my heart
It all falls apart