The beauty of people,
Like the beauty of books,
Has many different forms.

Young and fresh,
Old and well kept,
Weathered many storms...

The beauty of youth
Gets noticed more
Like a brand new books
Fresh from the store

With plot lines that remain
Secret and sweet mystery
But of course they lack
Weighted words and history

Old and taken care of
Just a little frayed
It's in great shape for it's age,
But still, it's going gray

People will admire it
For how it holds itself
But it may be missing out
Just sitting on it's shelf

Then there's books
With covers stained
Dog-eared pages
In some pain

These may be my favorite
I read them by the stack
You know they've seen the world
They've been there and back.

Maybe they'll be rebound
Reprinted on fresh trees
But for now they are content
To give us torn out pages
And fill us with their memories.