Paper Cut
Just when you least expect it
Not from a fainting sheet
Thing that projects but innocence
Clean and void that can hold dreams
But possesses a deceiving edge
That appears so thin and weak
Yet has the skill of a blade
With a rapid slide, you will bleed
Too late, when you see it’s deep
Delayed then for a cut treatment
But long enough for the pain to fade
Gradually, you will be relieved
Slowly, its mark will wane
Next thing, you’ll hate magazines
‘Cause its leaves cut even meaner
Turn them carefully to see what’s within
The caveats must be yet to discover
Then you’ll be gentle with papers
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Banat na!