I was given this to wear for the duration of my time.
Over time it has become creased, ripped, and worn,
A once perfect canvas the day I was born.
Even the corners are rounded and jaded.
The vibrant colors that once were, have now faded.
Deep inside there are pages missing.
I wish that one day you would sit and listen.
Turn these pages slowly and rewind time,
For it’s down to you to make up your mind.
Gently close me; be careful of my cover.
Then place me back on the shelf for someone new to discover…