I live in a book full of empty pages, <br />constantly searching for a writer. <br />Iv been all over the world, <br />stuck on shelves with other stories, <br />causing the shelf to be tighter and tighter. <br />I was jealous of the other books, <br />with their adventures and glory. <br />Till a lone writer saw me, <br />He freed me from the tight bookshelf, <br />cared for me and kept me for himself. <br />He was a writer, <br />and he said inside me, was a story. <br />He rote about himself, <br />and of the adventurers we had. <br />The feeling of the quill on my pages mad me smile. <br />I no longer was a sad empty book. <br />When the writer placed me back on the shelf, <br />the time i had endured without a story felt worthwhile. <br />The other stories couldn't help but look, <br />at how i stood tall and proud, <br />waiting for someone to read my new story.<br /><br />Poet of the River<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/book-with-a-story-happy-thought/
