• Behind A Book


    Oh behold,
    There's an ancient tale of glory,
    And ones so bold.
    Captured within the paper,
    And bound together with a spine,
    The imagination spins a tale of intrigue and adventure
    So deep as to make one weep when hero meets The End.

    Another world,
    Another life,
    Another path,
    Another dream.
    Can't we all just see
    How this can never be real for us,
    Since we're each just a word of an unborn page?

    Something I should not have,
    Something borrowed,
    I've taken another's life through stealing
    As I continue to read
    And finish at their end,
    While their peril is not my own
    And I might be safely snuggled in bed,
    Though slipping and falling into another I don't belong.

    My final wish,
    Their last breath;
    Out my window I see
    Only what will always remain a mundane world,
    While out their window they see
    Another timeless challenge setting them free,
    A love and friendship ever eternal and unbreakable.

    Show me the way,
    But there is none.
    Show me the fine things of our life,
    Why is there so little to behold?
    Show me the dreams to conquer our fears...
    But there I see only an overflowing box which continues to grow,
    The home to every dream eternally abandoned.

    My life is just another,
    My pain is just another,
    And my thoughts are still mine.
    Their life is one more to remember,
    Their toil to save for the right and good is their adventure,
    Their pain is something we never gather,
    And their thoughts are still theirs.

    A world of creation,
    Mine for the reading,
    Theirs for the living.
    A world of reality,
    Mine for the feeling,
    Troubles and aches they will never see,
    So different our realities have been and will always be.

    A world of fiction and fantasy,
    Showing only times of friends perhaps never lost,
    Such a contrast to the world of reality,
    So cautious of each other to the point of paranoia.
    So unreal is their happiness,
    Since for us harm is our reality,
    And now it may be our identity.

    This I see,
    This I feel,
    This I dream,
    Something for me to know,
    Something for them to never find out.
    Shh, it's our little secret,
    Our little treasure as the storybook characters
    Fall into the childrens' beds.