I am an open book So take a look Maybe you'll like what you see
Or, maybe you'll ignore the message And only see the typos, the grammar infractions The mistakes I made along the way In my little novel of a life Because the book isn't about the order or meaning of the words right? It's whether or not they are done "correctly"
You could read me so easily I don't try to conceal it For the most part Sometimes Occasionally But that doesn't matter Read the material I've provided you with Even if it doesn't tell the whole story
My heart is on my sleeve Look at it, anyone could tell I've been in love By the scars in its flesh You can tell it's been broken But that's alright You can also tell that someone has mended it
I make my intentions clear I'm not here to hurt anyone But myself But that isn't intentional For the most part Sometimes Occasionally But that doesn't matter I'm here for you Talk to me, I'll listen I want to help
Do you think of me? I think of you Yes, you You who are reading this right now I might not have ever met you But I can guarantee that you have crossed my mind Mentioned in my prayers 'Cause I'm thoughtful like that
One of these days, someone is gonna read this book And be spellbound Glued to the pages Can't wait to find out what happens next Desperately wanting to be a part of the story At least, that's what I hope And I'll be happy to include them You don't have to watch from behind a glass pane It won't hurt you For the most part Sometimes Occasionally But that doesn't matter
Just, don't burn the only known copy before it's even done I don't want to disappear in a puff of smoke Not just yet
Read me Tell me what you see Because when it comes to myself I am tragically illiterate The illiterate author Of a tragedy
Wow, this is like the what, third, fourth poem I've written today? Man, Sunday has really given way to some creative and deep(ish) thinking. Let loose the brain, let the ideas flow. Not like my tears. Haha, see what I did there?