White plain paper, so pure but thin
Could be a gate, to all my sins
Folded in half, hope to be gone
But long lost dreams, could not be won
Each fold is quick, precise aligned
And each contained, my thoughts confined
Another fold, the fragile wings
My secrets hide, when morning sings
A form is seen, the wings a gate
The head now formed, the tail can’t wait
Now sits a bird, look in my eyes
And in it holds, my truths and lies
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