It's just a sheet of paper
so thin and feeble
fragile
and almost transparent,
yet it has
the capacity
to hold my broken soul;
all of it
on a piece of paper.

It's just a pen
so feeble
fragile
so solid, made of plastic,
yet it has
the power to
transform my thoughts
into lines of ink
and turn them
into something
real;
all my soul
pouring out of a pen.

Things so
unimportant
a pen
an old piece of paper
my soul turned into ink.

So useless.
So powerful.