In front of you
Are two books.
One battered and old,
The other new and untouched.
The new is simple, easy.
You haven't had any hardships
Trying to read it, interpret it.
It's like Dr. Suess,
Fun, a child could read it.
The old is a different story.
Complex and challenging to sort through,
You have to read and reread
Every paragraph and page
Just to understand what's going on
In a way that Shakespeare would be proud.
Everyone prefers the obvious interpretation.
It's less work, quicker to catch on.
The old just stays on the shelf, collecting dust,
Praying that maybe one day,
It'll deserve your open mind as well.