Closed Books

I am a book,
with weathered pages;
for many have traveled the journeys,
I set them on;
I imagine and paint,
worlds for them;
In my creased spirit,
are the answers they ache for;
Somewhere between,
the sighs and laughs,
everyone bookmarks,
the chapters they love;
before they lay me back…
hesitatingly, lay me down,
into the decrepit world I belong.

© soulreserve 2015

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