My rough notebook

my rough notebook

filled with the ultimate crap 

is the ultimate thing of beauty

pages the color of sand

little rough to touch

already feeling archaic

scratches of frustration

random doodles of a random world

poems half done

dreams half fulfilled

a math sum with drifting leaves

tears long submerged

name of a lost love

thrown in with a poem or two

footprints of mind’s sojourn

within and beyond

my worn out notebook

is the ultimate thing of beauty