“Give in” a voice spoke,
“Just open the book” 

“You can’t” she whispered,
“No good shall come of this”

“I’m scared” he trembled,
“Don’t open it, please.”

“Let’s go home” a voice whimpered,
“This book looks really sad” 

“Eww,” another said,
“This room is so dusty” 

“You want to know”,
“it’s not right”,
“There might be spiders”,
“I want to go cry”,
“you will start sneezing, so not attractive”

They argue and bicker,
Inside of my head.
They’ve come to conclusion,
I know what I’ll do.
The cover creaks open, I gasp...
She was right, no good shall come of this.