Search up any name amongst its worn, brittle pages
Forgotten faces fade away into fine dust
Under each definition lies a story of the ages
Books within a book
Layers of life unable to be kept in a single chronicle
The pen is my hand
The sheet lies in front of me
And now I decide
What will define me
Before the ink dries
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Author:
poetboy123 (
Offline) - Published: September 7th, 2018 06:25
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 18
- Users favorite of this poem: Poetic Dan
Offline)
Comments1
That definition is a great way of purging ones mind.
I definitely agree Gold
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