Dear paper,

I am sorry that you are dead, and not near a lake bed.

You were taken from the woods, to become class goods.

I swear, it’s unfair.

You lost it all, from a fall

Because of man’s law, which took a saw

To your bark, one deadly ark.

Now angry hands, scrawl plans

all over your processed remains, without giving you any gains.

Sincerely,

anonymous