The cursed Book

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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.



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