My bindings are falling apart at the seams;
if only I could sew the pages back on.
I have some many sleepless dreams,
I needn't worry 'till morn dawns.
I have 2 favourite books, of which I cannot choose,
They are some very precious and beautiful,
They are those I'd hate to lose.
The words within their pages furl like black clouds,
If only they could bond.
So very angry, if only they answered sweetly aloud.
That is the tale of my book; within and beyond.
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