Poetry

Decorative locker,
full of printer papers
that leads the poor
to depression and
rich to madness
with it's power and beauty.
I'm not interested in those
colour papers,
I need some rest
in my mother's womb
it was also a failure one
because of these papers.
Now I got some sleep
in the hands of God.
But my parents are
still searching for those papers
in their life
for their loving son.