Heart Of The Matter
Little Book Of Poems
It was just a book of poetry,
An inscription on a cover,
Some words were written,
From the heart,
And sent to one another,
The book it told a story,
Of a life that once had been,
The pages now seem tainted,
But back then,
It was my dream,
It proved to me that through it all,
There was hope,
Within the heart,
Back then I lit a candle,
To cast light upon the dark,
It shone, albeit flickering,
The darkness was dispersed,
Words written on some pages,
Of a lifetime,
Unrehearsed,
The cover now is tattered,
Though the words,
They will remain,
It was just another chapter,
In a life of love and pain,
Now this little book of poetry,
Recalls places I have been,
And in between the stanzas,
The tragedies I've seen,
Some broken-hearted lovers,
Misguided faith and trust,
I hide within those pages,
A heart that turned to dust,
And vowing not to love again,
To taste love's sweet surprise,
So strange to hear it calling,
Through dark and distant skies.
An inscription on a cover,
Some words were written,
From the heart,
And sent to one another,
The book it told a story,
Of a life that once had been,
The pages now seem tainted,
But back then,
It was my dream,
It proved to me that through it all,
There was hope,
Within the heart,
Back then I lit a candle,
To cast light upon the dark,
It shone, albeit flickering,
The darkness was dispersed,
Words written on some pages,
Of a lifetime,
Unrehearsed,
The cover now is tattered,
Though the words,
They will remain,
It was just another chapter,
In a life of love and pain,
Now this little book of poetry,
Recalls places I have been,
And in between the stanzas,
The tragedies I've seen,
Some broken-hearted lovers,
Misguided faith and trust,
I hide within those pages,
A heart that turned to dust,
And vowing not to love again,
To taste love's sweet surprise,
So strange to hear it calling,
Through dark and distant skies.
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Little Book Of Poems
Little Book Of Poems
