When I was younger,
My dad brought home
A book for me to read
He said it was from
His co-worker’s
Daughter in law
She had written the book
And I read it
I loved the book
I loved it so much,
I told you about it
And you said that you
Wanted to read it too
So I loaned it to you
But you didn't give it back
For several months
So I'd keep asking you
When you'd finish
You kept apologizing,
And saying you were almost done
One day, you said I
Could come get it from you
So I showed up at your house
And took it back home
But to my utter horror,
There were purple
Fingerprints left inside the book
I didn't know what to do
I was so upset
You'd ruined my favorite book
But luckily for you,
My mom took the book away
She said it was to make sure
The book was safe
For me to read
But I'd read it hundreds of times
I knew it practically by heart
It was safe
For me
But eventually,
I stopped asking for it back
And it laid forgotten in my mom's
room
I finally got it back recently
Going over the worn out cover
And every small detail
When I saw the purple fingerprints
Which made me smile
I still don't know where the
Fingerprints came from
Or even what they were made of
And I can't ask you
Since it's been a long time
And I don't even know if
You ever wear
Black rimmed glasses anymore
But even if I did still see you
It wouldn't be around me
Because we were barely even friends
A/N: Hey guys, thanks for reading. Normally I write more traditional poetry, but went to an open mic literature reading night at a bakery, and saw this girl.....so I was to write this. But traditonal poetry is my first love, and always will be. Have an amazing week!
Bisous!
~Hannah~
