Hoping.

Hoping. As the days go bye, No one stops and checks to see, And look upon that dusty plain cover, But rather, they let it be. They let it be as the days go bye, And let it collect dust and sit. And sit on that shelf it does And it doesn't wine one bit. Whining it does not, But it rather sits and waits. Waiting and hoping for that one day When someone might get a taste. When one might taste curiosity As they see the cover on the shelf And take a moment to look around, And see whats inside itself. For inside that plain cover, Are pages of insightful words. Waiting to be discovered, Waiting, waiting, wanting to be heard. Waiting and wanting I sometimes do, Wanting my pages to be turned; Hoping for my voice to heard. Here I sit. Waiting. Wanting. Hoping -Morgan Monks- As the days go bye, No one stops and checks to see, And look upon that dusty plain cover, But rather, they let it be. They let it be as the days go bye, And let it collect dust and sit. And sit on that shelf it does And it doesn't wine one bit. Whining it does not, But it rather sits and waits. Waiting and hoping for that one day When someone might get a taste. When one might taste curiosity As they see the cover on the shelf And take a moment to look around, And see whats inside itself. For inside that plain cover, Are pages of insightful words. Waiting to be discovered, Waiting, waiting, wanting to be heard. Waiting and wanting I sometimes do, Wanting my pages to be turned; Hoping for my voice to heard. Here I sit. Waiting. Wanting. Hoping -Morgan Monks-