June 24, 2011 § Leave a comment

If you handed me a spine, saying
“Whatever you fill it with is fine”
I would give you empty pages without reason

Because alone I cannot just decide
If what I could ever put inside
Would be worth the time to read it

My greatest goal could breath and die
Before it ever met the eye
Of the bookstore shelves entreated

A daunting task to have a try
Slice heart with page and watch it cry
And so in fear I’ve not begun

Without someone to measure by
Without a map to guide this by
How will I know I’m done?



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