Paper Cuts Poem by Dian Barnett
Paper Cuts
Who are they these paper people
each exactly like the other
cut in chains with children's scissors
in some demon kindergarten,
Cast on wind to whirl about me,
lacking form or real dimension,
why do they reach out to touch me,
cutting me on their sharp edges?
Saturday, May 4, 2013
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5/19/2024 1:48:03 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Darn paper cuts do hurt a fair bit