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Replying to a comment on:
A Book's Plight (Free verse) by amanda_dcosta This is the story about my life,
Nay, not about marrying or having a wife,
Well, maybe âbout daggers and a butcherâs knife;
Itâs just a plain story of my life.
Iâve been a book as far as I know
They used to read me a long time ago
That was around the war-time before
You were born and I, kept in the store.
The kids would love the story I told
Of the rich, the famous and bold
Of castles and knights and the witches old
And dungeons beneath the land so cold.
There was always a mystery âbout me
Fascinating eyes read me with glee
A story from me would always be
Imagined and become reality.
But now, Iâm tattered, old and worn
In age, well sure, I have grown
My pages have turned to a dull brown
My countenance has a sad frown.
Its ages since I have been read
Or near a warm lamp by a bed
To amaze the dreams of a sleepy head
Oh! How I just long to be read!
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