Page
New ones, soft, thin, smell like a new magazine.
To a jail? A hell? A cage? No
To a library, gather the knowledge, read the books.
One, the book of life, we do not read.
We write. This new year, this new passage.
We walk the halls, we begin to write,
A new page.
This poem is about:
Me
My community
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated:
