Unread


As a child I imagined life
through the words that floated off the pages
of the big leather books I eyed,
that spoke of stories of exciting worlds and adventures.
And these stories, expressed eloquently on the pages
became my way of knowledge,
giving me dreams of life
beyond my penniless abode.
I thought that as I grew older,
I would gather new wisdom
from new tales
and could escape.

Yet as I grew older,
my eyes prevented me from uncovering these tales
since I was never told how to see these stories on the page.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem