Out of all the books and lines,

Why pick mine?

How did I catch your eye?

Nevertheless, you make happiness sky high.

You scanned me page by page,

seeing your eyes containing so much wonder

as the pages age

and my pages falter.

I saw you sad and crying;

Nevertheless, you were enjoying

The pain and agony I caused;

Making your sadness go away and making you robust.

As my pages lessen,

I can already see myself fade,

my stories excluding the glisten

that you claim to be an aid.

My last page trickling down,

making you frown

As you put me in your shelf

Lonely; rotting by myself.