Of all the things made on earth
Pen and Paper were perfectly match.
The pen that has too many colors
and while the paper has too many pages.

When you were at the peak of wanting to write poem
this two things meet like when you met him
it suits very much that you can able to write the perfect words
to describe your happiness.

But while you continuously writing
you never figure out
that the paper were starting to get out of pages
and then you stop.

You wanted to crumple that piece of paper
and just overflow the ink from within
but the pen describe you
and those pages are the moments you made together.

Maybe it's time to finish it
to open new pages to write poems
to breath and think of new words
and to write again.