Blank Pages

Like a dusty old notebook i sit idle, Forgotten through the courses of time, Ignored during its prime. My pages lay blank, Like the beats of my heart, Waiting for a pen to fill my pages full of hope. My Bindings are made of loss and despair, My cover is made from pieces of my soul, From time to time i am picked up, But never opened. Time seems to pass more quickly now, My bindings will soon rot away, Soon i will be dust! A story untold!