My Notebook

sol#SOL 17 Day 17

Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart. ~ William Wordsworth

My notebook is coming apart at the seams.
A little like me it seems.

It has hardly been written in or read,
But its demise has me seeing red.

When I bought it, it looked really great,
but now on my nerves it does grate.

It’s not like it’s just a small piece
If it were then I could have peace.

I don’t want to leave it bare,
but this rip is more than I can bear.

To abandon it doesn’t seem right,
Within it will I be able to write?

Oh, I’ll keep it and stop my whine
As I pour myself a nice glass of wine.

 

 

 

 

10 thoughts on “My Notebook

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