A Book

I brought a new book ,
And started treating it with care,
Read it page to page , cover to cover ,
While my old books kept lying on the floor.

Ah the smell of the new book attracted me a lot ,
The stories inside it , my attention caught ,
I started loving the book dearly,
Our relationship started growing clearly.

But there cried , my old dear books, 
Read me , my pages are torn...
Please repair me, love me , 
Don't forget our old bond.

But I ignored them , though they helped me better ,
What rubbish books are they ,I thought with clutter.
And focused all my attention , 
On the New Book adventure.

But soon time passed, and the new book became old, 
Now I can't enjoy it so threw it with attitude cold ,
It then went in the air and landed down ,
Near the pile of my old book's town.

I am bored . I have money. Let's buy One more book. 
I started reading a new book again, 
And hence repeated the game!

Now you might say this is a sad story , but look...
If you read it carefully , this poem is not about a book!

By Sahil Dhobale.