
Give me your words,
Give me your pain,
I’ll copy them,
multiply them over
70 x 7 copies,
double sided,
stapled, collated in shame,
papers that may be tossed out
in vain.
Occasionally,
I get jammed,
unable to follow your directions.
So you restart me,
open me up,
dissect me,
all in vain.
I am your copy machine.
Leave a Reply