This Simple Piece of Paper

I had a blank piece of paper And my thoughts I could not taper. They seemed to want to flow, As though I let them go. I write with rhythms and rhymes, As I have a thousand times. But not I had a piece of paper, That seemed to want a favor. I compelled me to write, As though I’d seen a light. I wrote how the paper felt, As if it had been dealt, With a voice so strong to hear, That it drew my hand near. I had a blank piece of paper And on it I wrote with fever. It clears the soul and heart, To write about things too tart. People don’t like poetry all that much, But it seems to hold a certain touch, That brings your mind to clear, And allows you soul to hear.