i sit down and open a book

just a plain old book with worn edges and a hint of sorrow

i write in it today yesterday tomorrow

i hold it in my sleep and i have it in my dreams

a book that hold all my secrets in its worn marble note-

 books are all i have

i remember when i was young and i lived in a huge house and i had my books to entertain myself

with their pictures and stories i thought i had it all

i didn't see the fighting the yelling

how they tore into each other ripping the binding in my perfect story

 

 

it was stagnant

 

I still write more than ever

rhyming words because that was all we could afford

I sang sweet hymns created from the thoughts within

and i tried to hard to not forget who i am

where i stand

how to stand

money was short

my father drank port

my mother grew weak

and i was left to play hide and go seek

she went away and with my heart it stayed

to one day came back in May

i took out my book the one that had the whispers and whines

and had everything i thought was divine

I sang a song a lullaby and really wanted to say goodbye

but know that Book holds all my secrets and rhythms and songs

and than I remembered how to belong

I am leaving soon in a year's time to get myself a better life

and with my heart i will take too a book of my life and book for you

a book to write your deepest fears, and to keep stories that will keep laughter in your ears

so tell me this smile well

because I guess this is farewell.