I live among the pages
Of a long forgotten book,
Abused, tattered, left to
Endure. Dust prevails,
A disgraceful film,
Capturing fleeting
Thoughts, identities,
Ghostly as they are.
Scarce reminders
Of desperate interaction.
It's been years since
The winds have turned my pages,
Since the sun has stained
My face, my words.
I've lost the meaning
In this fairytale,
Love, lust, fear,
Mere words that taunt
Me like a schoolchild.
Yet I weep,
Weep for those who
Pass me by,
I pity them -
For their time is to little
That they cannot pick me up,
But I shall wait,
For my story is eternal.
