Paper and pen
I miss my pen, and it has become distant and dry, and my heart has always longed for times to meet and see it, and I used to be happy when I saw it with joy and joy. So where are you, where are you?
I searched for you, but I did not hear your voice between the pages and shelves, nor did I find a whisper of you between the folds of the books and the rows. Have you abandoned us, or have you become rich and no longer need to meet us? Or where are you in terms of your hopes and aspirations, even though you have hastened your steps by forgetting?!
It is true that there is no longer any taste for what is written, and no one else has a taste for what he reads. Yes, this is how life is: a struggle between truth and falsehood and rounds between good and evil.
Here you are back, as if you were coming from ancient times and ancient times. You have returned, my pen, so congratulations to you for your place and position among us.
As long as you are alive, you must participate. Participate and do not leave your place to others, for you are more worthy of it. Your words are a source of hope, an abundance of safety, and a balm of healing.
God has bestowed upon you the blessing of life, so praise be to God for that. You are more deserving and deserving of it than others, so do not be absent from us again, so that we may miss you and not find you, and do not say to whom do I write? Rather, say: Is there a better tomorrow without anyone who reads? They are loyal and honest.
Be confident in yourself, seeking help from your Creator, and stand firm on the truth and be among its people.
When the pen returned, he told me: It is a greeting of thanks and gratitude to every hand that helped and helped others to stand, and to all the honest and authentic pens. May you always be a beacon for those who walk, and a light of pride for the young. I said: Yes, these are the concerns and honors of the adults and gratitude for the beautiful, and whoever does not thank people does not thank God.