You see the faces of others
like pages of a book
open for your viewing pleasure,
letting you read all of the worries,
the fears and the sorrows.
Until you come across the one
the only closed book among the rest.
Nobody else sees the difference between the cover and the last page.
They all neglect to see that she is waiting,
longing for someone like you to be willing to open up the cover
and read the first line.
YOU ARE READING
The deepest of concerns
PoetryPoetry, strait from the heart. Leave comments telling me what you think of the poems. I really want to know what you guys think
