Once I lived in the woods

Then was cut down by a thing as sharp as abusing words

I was stretched and pressed

And was made into a paper instead

I combined with my fellows

And was turned into a book which was colored yellow

Then a child bought me

In about a penny

He used me as rough as he could

It didn’t matter to him how I looked

Then I was torn down from the book

And again alone I stood

He twisted and folded to turn me into an airplane

And now my letters were in vain

He launched me into air strongly

But I crashed down into a dustbin obviously

That was my end I guessed

But I was recycled and refaced

And you know my story ahead

Isn’t that obvious my friend

The life was like it had been

The only change was in the way I was seen.

21 thoughts on “THE WAY I WAS SEEN

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