Weathered and Worn
Upon the shelf, above the door
With dust and age upon the text
The book, it sat, with readers, naught
With dreams of eyes upon it, yet
The binding, tight, it’s never torn
The leather, smooth, yet worn with age
The white within is yellowed, worn
And risks a tear, when turn the page
Alive, it seems, it screams its verse
Calling out to many, who dare to hear
Alas, without eyes, it’s set with curse
Yet, keeps hopes alive year after year
Perhaps a mind set there for words
Or interested hearts, set there in love
Will find the book, then read its verse
Be thankful then for looking above
Then the book, there, penned with heart
Will have shared its many words, its thoughts
Perhaps a life will change, then start
To appreciate their lives, all then taught
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