#WritcoPoemPrompt16
The pages of my old book,
Hold my memories of yesterday,
Every smile, every tear,
Every person who came my way
carefully their images it bear

such old rusty book,
wielding each day of my life
in each page that it took.
and securing the pleasures that I should from such derive

should I flip to the glossy pages alone,
my rumpled pages appear,
leave the book idly on the shelf,
and the jealous wind of memories
flutter the sheets to my naked sight

meet me at crossroads,
I stand with the book in my hand
should I surrender I to the Earth,
it's virgin pages shall witness such dirt.
should I betray it to the ambitious flames,
surely there...