Books

Life is like a book
With others, in a shelf
Standing with time's bookend
To let it fall, in the end

Would you let me take yours?
Would you try to open mine?
Would you still be my friend
After read every line?
"I'll try..."

It doesn't starts in page four
Have no dedications, no brief
Every dot's a little breathe
To start again and again
"Until the end..."

How many more times you'll read
The same quote I wrote years ago?
"If you love me, let me go"
The paper with the marks of your tears
Coffee, sweat, your fingertips
But the mistakes are still mine...
My blank pages with no dead lines
Nightmares come in the lines I skip
The words I should, but don't use
The feelings I chose never feel