Pages

That little boy carries

An old leather bound book

That tells of his story

And the journey he undertook.

Each page is a part of him

A segment of his soul,

Necessary moments

That makes up his whole.

Even on the days he

Cried himself to sleep he

Never tore the pages

Or let them fly free.

Each painful moment was

A lesson for him to learn

Even when he longed to

Let go and let it burn.

Now he sees his story

Is something to be kept,

To be carefully shared,

Though, it’s not perfect.

So he carries his book

Adds to it as he goes

Looks for mindful readers

Careful of who he shows.

One day he’ll meet someone

Who’ll study the pages,

Love him for who he is

Though, he’s been in rough places.

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