Your Book

What is it?
That something..
It’s holding you back

Searching..
For the perfect time
To unpack

The first few chapters
Unfold
On their own

Etched
So deeply
In pieces of stone

Priceless..
A treasure
Collected in jars

Painted
The next part
With shimmering stars

Tiny explosions
Inside
Every letter

Composing
A brilliant
Collection of words…

Planning ahead
You picked up
A pencil

Afraid
What’s to come
Might not have the potential

Erasing
Replaced 
The passion for writing

Doubting
Everything
You had been reciting

After some time
You gathered
Your thoughts

Finding
A way
To get your point across

Written on paper
With
Beautiful ink

Line after line
Not having
To think

Pouring out words
The pen had
Run dry

The hope
Inside you
Now starting to die

With much more to say
You began
To weep

On top of the pages
As you
Fell asleep…

That night
Miraculous magic
Occurred 

The tears
Dried up
And formed into words…

But when you woke up
You didn’t bother
To look

Now I wait
For the day
That you finish your book.