The Ongoing Book
Some days you can’t make it in time,
To put a full stop to the painful sentence,
That is being written across a page,
Of the book dearest to your heart.
I greatly wish to be there, to begin,
A fresher, brighter style of writing,
A kinder, gentler flow of wording.
The stories before have been scribed,
In such a way that they are scrubbed,
Of all the goodness that was before.
Yet it has been used greatly to advance,
Towards this beautiful chapter headed,
By a saved life, a moved heart, a love.
So some days you aren’t meant to make it,
A painful sentence makes the book grow,
Strengthens all the characters within its pages,
And those that read the words etched there.