Poetry in Motion…

book

A poem committed suicide,

No one to read the words inside,

Her dusty jacket faded grey,

She waited silently everyday,

For someone to love and hold her tight,

Someone whose joy she would excite,

Written within were prose and verse,

Other worlds you could transverse,

Alas alack nobody came,

She could only feel horror and shame,

She threw herself into the fire,

Her dying embers left to inspire.

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