Book

I'm a book lying in the corner of the room,

I was written under the bright moon,

Who written to me to narrate his life story on my pages,

Now I'm lying in the room from ages,

Don't know why he left me to catch dust,

I was written by him as the writer's thirst,

I'm opened up after the ages,

I can feel that it's a small child's touch,

I was catching dust in the room,

Might be who written me don't want anyone to look into his past life,

As it was filled with tears and pain,

Now I'm opened up by little hands giving me the new life,

I also carry the story of happy memories, sweet moments,

But the beginning is full of pain,

Might be that's why nobody wants to open me up,

There's more to tell,

But I'll tell you some other day,

Enjoy your life, live it in your way,