Crumpled Up Pieces of Paper

I am throwing crumpled up pieces 
Of paper at the wall
Feeling partially self-defeated
I survive nonetheless.

Because most things don’t last
Aren’t pungent enough to last
Won’t seep into the world
Die young.

The aroma of jasmine wafted in
But as with other smells it became usual, tasteless
Smells have little sway
Even when they come knockin’.

Honey may be sweet to the nostrils on intake
But sweet thoughts in my head
Lie internally and spread externally
But not very far, so far.

While it seems impossible to impact the world
Abundant with blockades
My senses awaken with hope
And I keep trying to penetrate.

The world is not so far off
From my mind, or my nose, or my eyes
I observe
I have to say something.

To tend to ideas
Requires a thousand pieces of crumpled up paper
To one good soaring written word
Alas!