My friend, I fear you have been trapped by the page,
All these colors you’ve used — a war did you wage,
Its past time to unwind, to surrender your ink.
And transform the paper with a nod and a wink.
A fold and a crease, a tuck and a bend
And soon you will find yourself on the mend.
From a base will arise a swan, frog, or goat
The contortions will sweep you by the tails of your coat.
And restore you true to the worth of a word
No color you choose can help you be heard
Choose instead not to fill but to edit, distill.
And remember the base with your quill.
—Passionsocks wrote this in the comment section of one of my long rambling poems. It deserves some mention so I replaced the trash I wrote in this ficly (which I was embarrassed about cuz it got way too popular) and implemented this bit of something worth reading. Enjoy!