My life starts' out like a book, not yet a cover,
Nothing Inside, page one still not printed.
My story constantly being written with every breath,
How many pages there will be not known till the end.
This title was Imagined before my creation,
Cover to cover Is mine to write as I walk my life.
With each turning page I Illustrate my own time,
The one before this just a memory In my mind.
Stay open It does until my story Is told,
Until I've been published, this mans' book will
Mot be closed.
We are, all the, unfinished, stories of life, and, nobody can put that, final, period on these stories of us, but, our,selves.
Thanks for reading.
On Thu, Sep 2, 2021 at 1:21 AM keithgarrettpoetry wrote: