Thursday, February 2, 2012

Day 33/366

I can hardly remember why
I wanted to write you a book.
The book of all my thoughts,
To forever keep you amused.

Pages after pages,
I would fill relentlessly,
The words would ease my mind,
For in you they found a reader.

The simplest and most delicate
Feelings to you they told.
It was to be the binding (bound?) string, 
To which we both would hold.

One day when you weren't looking, 
I kept the book away,
I'll start a whole new chapter,
When it seems like a better day.

2 comments:

  1. Nicely done! Incredible how you can come up with poems day in and day out.

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