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"The Book"

by: Rachael Frye

June 10, 2006 :@: 9:12pm



The book is being published

The author isn't me

The pages are turning so fast

Why can't I see?



The book lies there on the table

Waiting for the eyes to read

The book is written

Is this what I really need?



The book becomes unnoticed

Every word

Pages collect dust

Title unheard.



The book doesn't open

Today I am taking it in my hands

I look through the pages

But I just don't understand.



The book is my life

Every page is mine

Yet, I'm not the author

Of this book unkind.



The book has lost it's color

Binding falling apart

Pages colored to a deep yellow

The book was close to my heart.



The book has now been opened

For the first time in my life

It's time for me to start writing

For this book I call "My Life."