Unroll me like an ancient scripture.
Flick through my pages,
a creased-binding book.
Boring descriptions
you choose to overlook.
but in retrospect,
I've got you hooked.
Caress the frail pages
that once used to be bark,
watch out for papercuts,
my edges are sharp.
Absorbed in the middle,
you almost forget
there are 142 pages
that you've left unread-
and yet you read on,
though some pages are torn,
but what matters to you
isn't my physical form.
It's the miracles born-
those thoughts you adore,
written down with such care
that you're scared to read on...
But Alas!
Time passes so fast!
there are three pages left
but you want this to last,
so in your own mind
you'll tirelessly write-
yes, thats right,
you don't want to end this-
you'll stand up and fight.
And as you hug me tight,
and re-read me on sleepless nights,
I'll keep your thoughts safe
bound between my own pages
until our lives
entwine once again.