Printed Hearts and Warm Pages ____________________________________
Painted myself on thousands of books! I've forced my tears out for you to see Judge or comfort me, I no longer care As long as the tears are flowing.
The books look warm! Dizzy and nauseated I see myself on a longer road Unstable, stumbling, falling Rising to the sun-rays striking cruelly on my darkling face.
The pages are bound so well! I didn't cover my frowns with smiles, As I trod the unkempt ways I didn't hide my lost senses, But who saw them? As I wished to say, Who was keen to ask- are you okay?
The papers are ready to be pages! How much of my heart was man-made... How much have we been taught to feel... Often witnessing comforting smiles- Grinning on words of someone else.
Have I ever written a page?
The sheets are clean, fresh and prepared to carry ages of celebrated text, I have fumbled through well-bound books that warmed my heart and brought the love, Yet not one, worthy enough, to bear my name! -Manosrija