A Letter Lost

My letter is a work of art

An 8x11 masterpiece

Overlaid in tangible phrases

Paper has never before possessed such beauty.


My pen and ink grace this page

My fingers create every fold

Every crease is measured to precision

The envelope, an expectant sheath.


A single line displays a name

A name of magnificence

But only a name

For dates and addresses are considered redundant.


Courier mail is considerably slow

But the old fashioned way is respectable

In its own right one could suppose

This letter, to him shall be sent thus.

Ripped and torn this letter arrives

Creases and folds nearly indiscernible

Subtleties lie beneath the surface

Evidence of tampering is proof enough.


If one reads well and writes well

There is nothing more to fear

Bladed paper is tangible

Paper cuts not forgotten.


The knife knows paper well

For scissors from it are derived

To ruin a glorious document

Is a sin to paper planes and origami.

The End

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