Then beaten up red cover
Called to me somehow
The wearing threads streaming off
It had been loved 'til now.
The pages seemed to sing to me
And beckon forth my pen
They wanted all my life'd great tales
To be documented, there and then
Before the ink had touched the page
Before the words appeared
I saw the stories explode right out
From all the long gone years
I couldn't find a single page
That was blank enough to write
They all had stories spilling out
From north and south and left and right
I found one lonely waving page
Still bathed in perfect white
I thought there for a moment
With the book in fading light
I somehow knew from all I read
That the page was meant to stay
That the blank was just inviting us
To writing our own someday
So I left the book alone again
On a desired table
And watched to see if anyone
Would see the book was able
Able to written in
Able to thought of
Able to hear your hardships
And able to be loved.
'cause deep inside that beat up cover
Between the ink blank words
Lies a single page
With a story to be heard.
@mindfreak