The Empty Book
a life could be
thought of as a book usually never written just lived
so many
stories never told just lived
words left
unspoken perhaps jotted down on little slips of paper waiting
a pencil and piece
of paper a perfect gift a blank book
a journal even
so left by the bed
empty i thought i
would get around to it the sands in the hour glass run out
will you
remember all that wasn't written in the empty book
March 2,
2016
3 comments:
excellent.
My one regret is that I did not keep a journal through all the years. Because so much of what was lived has been forgotten that I would like to revisit now. This poem really speaks to me, Annell...........so many blank pages. But, thankfully, also many with words on them, in our stories and poems.
Yes.... Important to live the stories. Lovely.
Post a Comment