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Books
April 17, 2017
I lay on the table
Worn and ragged.
“Poetry Collections”
My cover reads.
Each of my pages
Caressed by fingers.
Some the same,
Some different.
Eyes have grazed my sensuous curves
My text intriguing.
Now, once again
I am spread.
My entire story exposed
To all curious pupils.
I’m used.
Pleasure is rewarding
To both you and me.
My story is known
Ingrained into minds.
I wither with age,
Thank you.
© Anonymous
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