The cursed Book

Poem: The cursed Book

I was an old book among the thousand in her shelf,

I was taken out and torn by herself.

I was hurt, I was bleed,

I was that open book she never need.

I had kept the petals for her between the pages,

They faded and died, they were alone for the ages.

Every page I wrinkled had a story to tell,

The book is torn, those pages still yell.

With the time, the words will fade,

Emotion will be there with darker shade.

I will be burned; the pages will turn grey,

This won’t be the end of book; the ashes will have a lot to say.