The Newspaper

I have been watched a thousand times, a record, a chronicle,
a rhapsody of voices in unison
blurred lines, omissions, crumbled, tattered ,worn
served as a beggar’s pillow, a mop to dry the floor, wrapping for fragile objects,
shelter from the rain,
A spiritual treatise treated as a fairy tale
berated, mistreated, derided, ignored

I am everything and nothing to you
your indispensable waste,
you see me as ornamental refuse adorning the present
an un-consulted spectator
a history that will not go away,

Each letter helps to tell a story on each page
so many sections make a whole
ink marries paper and becomes a tale
another entity altogether
my face today is a compilation of your yesterdays

I read you whilst you were watching me
screamed hoping you would hear
a mere collectible on a shelf amongst many
evidence of a repeated mistake
apathy has reduced me to occupy this “prized” space

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