The pages of my old book,
Hold my memories of yesterday,
Every smile, every tear,
Every person who came my way...

In faded ink, the chapters unfold,
A story of a life full of tales untold,
Each page a snapshot, a moment in time,
Etched in my heart, a treasure so fine.

From tender love to bitter loss,
An ode to the experiences that I toss,
A canvas of memories, like petals in a gloss,
Each chapter a testament, never to be at a loss.

The smiles, like sunbeams, warm my soul,
The tears, like raindrops, make me whole,
Every person, a part of me, a vital role,
Their presence etched in the fabric of my scroll.

Written in ink, tales unfold,
Whispers of moments, both new and old,
A window to the past, a glimpse into worlds untold,
Where the power of storytelling takes hold.

Through the pages, I traverse the years,
Revisiting moments, both laughter and tears,
Each memory, a testament to conquer fears,
A symphony of life, composed of hopes and cheers.

From the moments of joy and glee,
To the trials that tested me,
Each chapter filled with lessons learned,
And bridges crossed, and bridges burned.

For every sorrow, a lesson I've learned,
A strength I've discovered, a soul that's been burned,
Through each trial, I've grown and I've thrived,
Leaving behind the person who barely survived.

But amidst the glee, shadows come to play,
Whispering secrets, casting doubts astray,
The tears that stain these once pristine sheets,
Remind me of struggles, hardships I've beat.

So I let this book, with faded ink,
Remind me of the things I think,
Of moments treasured in my heart,
Where memories and feelings never part.

The pages of my old book,
Tell the tales of the life I took,
A melodious symphony that will forever play,
In between the lines, where my memories stay.

The yellowed pages gently crumble,
Like the echoes of a forgotten place,
Yet they hold the power to transport,
To a time, a space I can not erase.

Within its worn, weathered covers,
Lies a parchment of hopes and fears,
A silent witness to the joys,
And a solace for the shedding tears.

In faded pages, whispers reside,
Of hopes and dreams that never died,
Indelible imprints on my soul,
As life's tapestry weaves its role.

So, as I flip through the pages of my past,
I hold dear to the memories that will forever last,
For they are the ink in the story of my life,
The essence of who I am, beyond the strife.

For within this old book's embrace,
Lies the essence of who I am,
A collection of memories and grace,
A testament to life's untold gla.

So I'll hold onto this old book,
And cherish it with pride,
For it's a testament to my journey,
And the person I am inside.

Each word etched upon the paper,
Whispers secrets of my past,
A treasure trove of moments,
That forever will last.
The pages of my old book hold my past,
But the next page is waiting, to travel down destiny's path.

© SMJohnson
#WritcoPoemPrompt16