All books are handled with care,
but I'm different.
I don't think my cover was pretty enough,
because people man handled me.
I was never the prettiest book around,
because everyone judged me by my cover.
THEY liked the attention THEY got
and I stayed on my shelf.
Whether it was hot or cold,
sunny or rainy,
I didn't move once.
When someone finally picked me up,
I was very happy,
but then my heart ached.
They use my insides
to fold paper planes.
They're the reason my emotions flew away.
I'm holding on for dear life
with only one page between my cover.
Just fold another plane
and let my life fly away,
because I don't hold a story anymore.
YOU ARE READING
: ̗̀➛ Poetry: A Journey
Poetry↳ ❝ And I realise that no matter where I am, whether in a little room full of thought, or in this endless universe of stars and mountains, it's all in my mind ¡! ❞ ·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ Poetry is an art that can touch the soul the same as music or even a...
