A4

Ralph Whillier 15 November 2012

( A personalisation of an inanimate object )

A4 lay bare in a dark place.

Flat, forgotten. Yet insecure.

No light flickered on her face

To show her whiteness. Oh! So pure.

She waited for long wasteful hours

Wondering for when he might come.

Suddenly a bright light devours

Dark wood corners, surrounding some

More as her kind thrust together,

Neatly stacked, fresher, virginal.

His hand, under the cord tether

Slid her gently by marginal

Tugs. Separation from the cold

He gently laid her on his desk,

Wide open for him to behold

Ideas in his mind, not grotesque.

She blankly lay there. And he struck

Time after time he left his mark.

Scratching her. Creating a ruck.

He screwed her up and with a bark

Threw her on the floor. Let her roll

Across the boards. Cat lay in wait.

It pounced ripping her like a doll.

Fragments. Torn paper was her fate.

8 Comments on “A4

    • I had this on my mind for a while. Just had to be brave and try it. Ralph x

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  1. Cats are truly our best teachers… they’re naturally zen, and so cute! What would we do without them?

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    • Thank you Jennifer for your comment on the poem and for following 😀 Ralph x

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    • You have some great poetry BAW. I must visit again 😀 Ralph xox

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