Tattered Book

~Tattered Book~
Written: 10/12/2020

What am I
But a storybook
With ripped pages
Scribbled upon by careless hands.

They wrote chapters
In my honor
Only to bleed ink
And dog ear corners

My tale was to be marvelous
Filled with adventure
And self discovery
To be told to the dreamers

But my book collects dust
In the shelves of rotting libraries
Untold and unheard of
Just another wasted wood made piece

And oh it was not about
Damsels being rescued
Or chauvinistic princes
Seeking artificial love.

I was made for the believers
The seekers of none cliches
But I lay tattered and forgotten
As a genre this world rejects to display.