You

I wrote an old song and it was beautiful and written on the most elegant paper. I tried to share the song  but others ripped the paper and tore the edges. “It’s fine. I’ll find someone to help me fix this crumbled sheet.” Easy to speak but the action was most difficult. A few boys took a look at my paper and the demon behind their eyes hid as they said they’d help me. Then they rip it into a million shapes. Then you. You grabbed the parts that were left and taped them together. My paper was still damaged and could never be fixed and the words were mixed up but you helped me unscramble them. And moment by moment you fixed this torn paper. You filled a void of hate with love. My song will never be the same but our taped version is my favorite harmony. I hum it on the bus. Sing it in the car. And since you've been gone my paper is getting filled with new ideas and lyrics. I love this tattered song.