There is a book inside of me
A book of white
It is not square, but a circle
Some pages are written
Some are still blank
Some pages torn from pain
Some pages strong with joy
Everyday another page written
Until the day I pass on
Then my book is complete
My journey will be over
My story will then be read to be told
But now the book has many blank pages
I have plenty of time to fill them
With my life, my words
My circle of life
In a single book