Off To The Books
And here I go again
Off to the books
Soon I'll be weeping on them
Wetting the very pages I hungrily eat through in October
I'll miss how the sun felt on my skin
Or the way my days weren't written out like a play
I'll miss the summer heat I so awfully dread this time in August
When I'm pale and shiverung in February
It's funny how it all works
I can't just accept my now
I can't just love my present
I'm only ever waiting for the next best thing or some new grand feeling
To come rip my heart to pieces
Anyways
I'm off to the books
This poem is about:
Me
Our world