Pen and paper, just like a day, Every paper is a new day, To be written with a pen.
The paper you write becomes your day, The pen you use is your time, The more you keep on writing, The larger the stack of papers grows, representing your life.
The neater you write, the more it shines, For others to see and admire, But the more mistakes you make, The more it becomes a mess to decipher.
Corrections you make may seem futile, As they will still be visible to others, Until you write something noteworthy, The errors will remain, uncovered.
You write on your paper with a pen, Amidst many others at the same time, But ultimately, it will always be Your own pen and paper, until the stack is ready to burn,
And there lies the end of both the pen and paper.
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