TO THE WOODS WE SHALL RETURN
_A Belief of the papers._
One day, we shall return before the forest fires burn down our roots. Like humans were created from dust, We papers Were created from the woods. As humans bear(s) a specific special name, We papers Too have our special names. In the world of ours, We are meant to serve the ink holders. From them, we receive orders. I have a father, his name is Money. He’s this kind of paper Humans can’t do without. He’s the price to their commodity. They spend him Save him, Invest him, Lavish him, Some even heist him.
I have a mother too. Her name is Will. She’s the book of inheritance. She contains the sharing of wealths and riches Humans derived from my father. (Money) My mother is the problem of some families. They fight and kill each other Because of my mother. I do wonder, if mother is that beautiful, Why do humans fight over her? All I could say is… My father is a very brave man.
Money and Inheritance Gave birth to a boy and girl twin. Namely, Letter and Envelope, Respectively. I am Letter l. I’m living a life of errand, Like the angel of death. I’m being used by lovers, they ink words on me, conveying their feelings of beautiful roses to each other. If my life has only been a way to unite lovers like Femi and Grace, it would have been more prosperous because last week, I got Musa sacked which makes me think I’m demonic but I’m not a devil. I’m just an errand boy, who serves his master’s coy, because on Monday, I’ll be presented as a letter of promotion to Audu for his deligent and effective efforts at work.
Perhaps, my mission in life is incomplete As I’m dependent. My twin sister is my backbone. Like humans needed clothing for their nakedness, My sister Envelope is what I wear. She’s my dignity, My pride, My shield.
It’s very unfortunate Humans has never given us a befitting burial. After they finished using us, They throw us to the streets To be blown aways by the winds. And, As we wander around, We became dirts. Nowadays, politicians and greedy men Are found burying my father (Money) Six feet below the earth surface. If you don’t need him anymore, Don’t bury him where he doesn’t belong
Kindly find a tree branch, Where his ancestors will receive him with honour.
We papers deserves a human respect. If our service are no more needed in your Chambers. Kindly return us to the woods, Cos that’s where we belong.
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