Thin threads hold onto a sharp needle,
Zipping through the thread like thunder,
Piercing tiny wholes within the fabric,
Holes that soon bring tears.
These tears subside to bigger holes,
And holes subside to bigger tears;
This vicious cycle doesn't end
Until the fabric breaks in two.
The material is broken;
It cannot be fixed.
But it can temporarily
Be strewn together with the tip of the needle.
This short-term fix brings happiness
Until it's abilities are proven.
Tears enlarge and increase in multitude
and the fabric meets its demise.
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Feel free to add whatever you like! I like to think of language as a form of poetry, expressing the right to free speech and embracing individuality. However, please do not be disrespectful.