Array ( [sid] => 177893 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Storybook [time] => 2014-03-06 17:24:11 [hometext] => [bodytext] => Tattered pages, foxed
With a fragrance of time and wisdom soaked into the aging pages
Not something unwritten, not something finished
A continuum of life
Not permanent in this nature, but ever-existing inside the idea

Peeling back the pages, searching for clues
Shrouded by a type of darkness that is overwhelming
It's not the beauty tainted
As much as the mind of my own being
Finished chapters stitched with the waning of my heart
Whispers caress the printed words I read and re-read
Strings that threaten my completeness of the present moment
So I stitched them closed
Whole chapters now stagnant, one may not re-write the past
But I may part the pages and hide flowers there for you, pressed to preserve
In the hopes that you might still be inside

Kissed goodbye, decorated with love of the past
Fly forward to now, inhaling the peace of love forevermore
Scribble away at the memories fading, white noise
Settle in, get comfortable
This story is unfinished; as it will always be

A storybook without a name
Not intended for the lightest of hearts
A story for dreaming, a story for living
A book read in the light of a blazing fire and impenetrable darkness
A storybook etched by time and weathered by life [comments] => 3 [counter] => 208 [topic] => 25 [informant] => The_Unknown [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 0 [associated] => [topicname] => MiscPoems ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Storybook


Storybook
Date: Thursday, 6th March 2014 @ 05:24:11 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: The_Unknown
Tattered pages, foxed
With a fragrance of time and wisdom soaked into the aging pages
Not something unwritten, not something finished
A continuum of life
Not permanent in this nature, but ever-existing inside the idea

Peeling back the pages, searching for clues
Shrouded by a type of darkness that is overwhelming
It's not the beauty tainted
As much as the mind of my own being
Finished chapters stitched with the waning of my heart
Whispers caress the printed words I read and re-read
Strings that threaten my completeness of the present moment
So I stitched them closed
Whole chapters now stagnant, one may not re-write the past
But I may part the pages and hide flowers there for you, pressed to preserve
In the hopes that you might still be inside

Kissed goodbye, decorated with love of the past
Fly forward to now, inhaling the peace of love forevermore
Scribble away at the memories fading, white noise
Settle in, get comfortable
This story is unfinished; as it will always be

A storybook without a name
Not intended for the lightest of hearts
A story for dreaming, a story for living
A book read in the light of a blazing fire and impenetrable darkness
A storybook etched by time and weathered by life

This poem is Copyright © The_Unknown


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