I am a used, piece of notebook paper.

Once crisp, clean, edges unperforated,

now worn with creases and crinkles

that will never smooth.

Soft spots, rough spots,

edges and corners torn away.

Scribbles in the margins,

doodles between the lines.

A piece of paper

that will be set aside,

lost underneath books, binders, folders.

Known, but forgotten.

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