As I bind these sheets in a monotonous routine way
I neglect to see what they are or hear what they talk about
Was it just some information they needed to convey?
Maybe just some words that hold some uncertainty or doubt
My metal decreases and turns to rust
Still I go on until my very last one
Continue with no hesitation, I must
Till the time will come when I say, ‘I am done’
I cannot resist, else I shall be obsolete
Nor can I continue without making a mistake
As my opponent does faster, I have accepted my defeat
Whilst I do my last attempt, I stop and break
I was used and discarded like the inanimate thing I am
Pushed away from the place I called home for many years
Thinking of a way to be used again, ideas I cram
But to no avail, I stay in the dark bin, crying without tears