yellow pages, with thin lines
held stiff, within a black spine
hard to uncover, yet so divine
the pages were empty, but the
smell of them, enlightened
the dusty places, in my mind
i sunk my hollow head, into the book
visionless, there was nothing to look
i sunk my heavy head, into the book
and the smell of rain took-
me away to the land of rain
and brown drenched wood-
the place i loved could only be
visited, through this pocket book
my home will always be between
the yellow pages of your book
-Kaya
Jan 9, 2017
Jan 9, 2017 at 1:48 PM UTC
yellow pages, with thin lines
held stiff, within a black spine
hard to uncover, yet so divine
the pages were empty, but the
smell of them, enlightened
the dusty places, in my mind
i sunk my hollow head, into the book
visionless, there was nothing to look
i sunk my heavy head, into the book
and the smell of rain took-
me away to the land of rain
and brown drenched wood-
the place i loved could only be
visited, through this pocket book
my home will always be between
the yellow pages of your book
-Kaya