The Book

The clicking sound of shuffling papers,

beautifully paired with a gentle wind.

Begging , pleading, just aching to be read;

a brand new book abandoned on a bench.

Beautifully paired with a gentle wind,

The smell of ink on paper bound by glue.

A brand new book abandoned on a bench,

hoping to be picked up by you.

The smell of ink on paper bound by glue.

That’s the call of a story,

hoping to be picked up by you.

Do you leave and walk away,

or do you hear what it has to say?