I choose to think of people as books.
Some small, some large.
Some contains thousands of pages.
Others, sadly enough, only a few.
The lucky ones, have stories of love and oppurtunity.
The majority turn a much sadder page, full of regret and loss.
But regaurdless of the words that we detail,
we all have one thing in common within our weathered spines and ripped pages.
We are all a book of secrets.
YOU ARE READING
The Summertime Mind
PoetryThis is a collection of poems and short stories I wrote and will be writing...:) hope you like it!
