Old Yellow Dust

Reign over me old yellow dust, Lay down on my hoary sentiments - for you I can trust. Bring me the wind that blew you away once ago, When time was then only present with another day to follow. Past. Show me another science that raised you to today, Gently gasp every second of my dependency over you to weigh; Consider me as one of your followers pleading to be taught wisdom, Avoid your absence – look now – don’t you see my desire to achieve stardom? Present. You know I still haven’t find your dusty marks on my desk, Probably not searching hard enough – but now I need rest. Old yellow dust… in the past you existed as hard work with a dream as well, Wishing to be upon a bookshelf – for many people to pick your story to tell. Now, now I am what you were then, only a blank page with soil upon it, What guidance can I expect from you – now with your words only placed to sit? To do nothing, I read you, you… old yellow dust with black ink, Yet nothing, your words mean nothing… it is best I follow my own instinct. Future. I still wish that you can start to teach me something, give me advice, Although I hope that as the days multiply the future – one day my words will be alive. I want to achieve more than just another book someone can read, I want to talk to them – inspire them – I want to lead. Old yellow dust, as your pages change colour everyday people passes you by, I will be on their desk – opened up – only because I tried. Old yellow dust, as your words keep quiet on the shelf you wanted to make home, I will be hearing their voices, talking to me and let me sit with them in the reader’s throne.