Maybe paper exists only for the pen,
Yearning to be marked by it
Drenched in its ink within a few moments
Forever carrying its scratches & scribbles.
All it takes is a mini-catharsis though
A shot of new-age individualism maybe;
Stories don’t always come from outside & beyond
The best ones are often found within.
A fold here & tuck there
Shifting forms yet still the same
Choosing from being the medium or the story
The choice is always your own.