Slowly unwrapping the gift,
Eyes filled with trepidation,
You see a dirt stained encyclopedia.
The book is called:
How to love a broken girl.
There is no dedication,
The spine worn from careless handling.
Corners ripped off pages,
Ink bleeding from past spillage,
You put the thing aside.
“We’re writing a new book.”
I love this image of the dirt stained encyclopedia x
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Thank you 😊, I appreciate the feedback!
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Love the image too, and love the decisiveness of that surprising last line.
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Thank You 😊!!
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Oh yes! we must keep writing the new book…and let not past define us 🙂 Wonderful poem and picturesque nature
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Thank you so much 😊❤️
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