Little Pieces Of Scribbled Paper
Little pieces of scribbled paper
On the desk all around me
Some of them I was reading later
Some words I can’t properly see
Pen didn’t write well as usual
Some letters are hard to make out
Not that I felt it was crucial
But I had to learn what it’s about
You were telling the news of your world
And I would write down after you
Some unfamiliar word I’ve heard
Then we’d look up together what new
Does it tell or it’s the same meaning
As always it used to be
Little pieces of paper now a memory thing
When I go, let them burn with me.
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