My Favourite Book

March 26, 2012
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Your promises are like my favourite book
Worn out and ratty, ripping at the ends
Falling apart from the binding, because
It’s been used a few too many times.
The promises you make me are the ink
From my pages, slowly fading with time,
Going from a bold black to a grey, going
Lighter, and lighter, fading more and more.
The words are there, but they only linger,
Just lying on he tip of your tongue, and only just visible
To my eyes of 20/20 vision, and even
Squinting, its hard for me to see.
Your promises are like my ratty, old, favourite book
But maybe now I have a new favourite.

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