The towns were paper,
but the memories were not.
Each town told a story,
although some were distraught.
The paper slowly fell apart,
though the memories stayed put.
Every night I tried to forget it,
but it never quite shook.
A slip of paper, that's all it took.
To give life another outlook.
And every night,
I would write,
a bittersweet lullaby.
Hoping that in the morning
when I would look,
There would be no town of paper
that I had took.
- C. B.
YOU ARE READING
The Towns Were Paper...
PoetryTake the time to look at a regular old map as your route of life instead. You'll find that the "towns" are your memories, and the paper is your life in whole. Though you aren't proud of some of the memories that you have, they'll always be yours an...
