A Father's Book of Life

Strange are the pages when they are turned by someone else You try to follow along With each one turned creates another memory Another wrinkle in time The book gets older The pages more bent over and over you try to figure out the story The plot begins to thicken and you question all you have seen and lived The book needs to be token care of or the pages become forgotten Torn or beaten down Feels older then it really is in your hands Then the story could come to end sooner then you like You want to continue reading on But because you neglected the pages They could never be written on again The book of life is gone just a number in the library of death