Book


I read,
A lot of people,
Some do not think we’re equal.
Some don’t cower behind a line.
And some people stand up to fight.

So what are you,
And what am I?
You don’t judge a book by it's cover.
You judge it by its insides.

Or maybe you don’t judge at all,
Maybe you don’t like to see others fall.
Maybe the book you read is torn.
Maybe the book you read isn’t yours.

Maybe the people around you won’t look at it,
All shattered and gross.
But it can look however it wants.
It’s the inside that matters most..

People lock their own book up.
So that they don’t show what’s inside.
They lock them somewhere special,
Where no one else can find.

But people are judgemental.
That is no mystery.
I let people read my book.
And see what people think of me.

And on the inside,
They might not see,
The details of my life.
The things that make me,
Me.

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This Poems Story

Kinda just to think about how I can relate thinga to other things. Stuff like that.