Beyond those pages of yours are truths,
and lies.
In these binders are clues,
for this life.
Reap the rewards of a good poem,
and please,
don't be afraid to die over and over,
within these books.

Miracles turn yellow over time.
Look at how they crumple when wisdom meets
you,
but only when it's right.
Young child of mine.
Indestructible only within my pages,
please,
don't be afraid to come with me and die,
over and over again.