If Life Was A Book

If your life was a book,

would you skip to the end?

Or just a few pages,

Around the next bend?

So many questions,

You ask about my book.

My question for you :

"If I write, will you look?"

No pages were turned;

Not a second I skipped

I savored my time,

Be it not a round trip

Would you glance at the cover,

Then expect nothing new?

Or see who’s the author,

Not believe that it's you?

I looked at the front,

Saw my name follow "By:"

I knew what that meant,

But I didn't know why.

Would you skip past the struggles;

Ahead to the joys?

Or linger on quiet parts,

Avoiding the noise?

I'll beat all the struggles,

And make all the noise.

I'll make it look easy,

And do it with poise.

Would you ask me to share,

Or read it alone?

Take on the adventures,

Or never leave home?

We'll do it together,

Or I'll get it done.

My home will be everywhere

And we'll chase setting suns.

Would your steps be one letter,

Or a paragraph each?

Will, you read from a distance,

Or touch margin to cheek?

I'll tread on each letter,

And slide on each curve.

I'll be one with the paper;

My story, in turn.

Would you fill every section,

Or cheat, double-spaced?

Your choices give it value,

Or make it a waste.

I'd shrink all the letters,

Make smaller, the words.

As if its an encore,

And my songs have more chords.

Would your heart ride the wind,

Your feet leave the Earth?

Or forever be cautious,

Carry compass from birth?

Would you flow like the waters,

Be one with the tides?

Or stubborn like the rocks,

And worn on the ride?

I'll be strong as a rock,

Yet go with the flow.

Direction be damned,

Wherever it goes.

Would you be a cliché,

A brick in the wall?

Or break through the rough,

Making new paths for all?

I'll step in no footprints,

And crash through brick walls.

I'll show them true courage,

And muster the gall.

Would you stay clear of edges,

Fearing the fall?

Or open your heart,

Leaving others enthralled?

I'll tease precipice;

Surrender the fall.

Give it over to you;

Each other’s heart: each other’s all.

Would your life be an Essay,

Chaptered, boring, and long?

Or flutter in poems,

As if life is a song?

I’ll make sure my story

Has chorus and verse,

A ditty so witty,

You’ll think Shakespeare wrote it first.

Would you jot it down bluntly,

And write things as they are?

Or craft eloquent metaphors,

Like your eyes: “twinkling stars”?

I’ll pretty the prose,

Make blush the red rose.

I’ll ask metaphoric skies

For the wish that star posed.

Would you long for the end,

And forget the best parts?

Or stretch every letter,

To finish from start?

I’ll wish for the days

Passed, and gone by.

But I'll never forget:

To treasure now, with open eyes.

Would you answer life’s questions,

Its puzzles, its riddles?

Will you find it funny that some                        

"wise men" know so little?

Would you be content to come second,

Never showing you lead?

That’s like giving us the pen,

But we follow; We read.

I’ll show you the way,

Not a teacher, but as a friend.

I am giving you my heart,

Now you take the pen.

Would you copy some history,

As they’ve done it before?

Or make thrilling pop fiction,

Teasing what is in store?

I’ll dwell in no shadows,

Ride on coattails? I haven’t yet.

I’ll start my own sitcom;

Cast my own silhouette.

Would you forget to be loyal;

Break what you can't mend?

Or be like this reader,

An everlasting friend?

I’ll always be true,

Never to stray.

I’ll move mountains and oceans,

To show you I’ll stay

Would your book be an epic,

With a hero; Saving you?

Or will you be evil,

And run Romeo through?

I’ll find out the format,

My story and what it is called.

I’ll be your hero;

Your short and you're tall.

Would you write about Cupid,

As old writers do.

Or make his wings lame;

Send his arrows askew?

I’ll restate the reference,

This song has four.

I’ll make you so certain,

With love, we’re never poor.

Would you learn all your lessons,

Never have to re-do?

Or would you get stuck,

Before Chapter 2?

I’ll Photoshop it,

Add a photo or two

Save two thousand words,

Add some memories too.

I’ll write of years twilight,

Those words, equal to:

The intro, its chapters,

And each word is written new.

Will your final words, lettered lines

Reminisce your work, not just your times?

Will, you finish your story and spell it in rhymes,

Opened eyes, or living blind?

I’ll accept when it ends,

Leave a legacy for you.

When my words, are finished

When life’s ended; When I’m through.