bought a second book to write between the pages.
Sometimes I make corrections
On words that are only wrong to me
Sometimes I try to write the wrongs
That no one else can see.
Sometimes I tear the pages out
And scatter them in the fire
I rewrite those words over again
Late at night untill I tire.
Sometimes my dust cover slips away,
And my hardback seen beneath.
With brused wet edges torn away,
Like a wolf that shows its teeth.
I do not want the world to see
scribbles, drawn in many stages
So I bought myself a second book.
To write between the pages.
Jun 28, 2018
Jun 28, 2018 at 9:57 AM UTC
bought a second book to write between the pages.
Sometimes I make corrections
On words that are only wrong to me
Sometimes I try to write the wrongs
That no one else can see.
Sometimes I tear the pages out
And scatter them in the fire
I rewrite those words over again
Late at night untill I tire.
Sometimes my dust cover slips away,
And my hardback seen beneath.
With brused wet edges torn away,
Like a wolf that shows its teeth.
I do not want the world to see
scribbles, drawn in many stages
So I bought myself a second book.
To write between the pages.
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