The Old Book

The Old Book

by:Reynaldo De la Peña

I’m hiding in an old shelve.
Muted by my inanimate body
But deep inside I’m wandering to every people.
They come and pass in this dark room.
Will they judge me or not?

I ‘am a grown up man I think.
I know how to feel shame.
My old dry and dusty covering,
Is just out of fashion.
Perhaps we don’t have good artist in my time.
Or I am well design?
My color doesn’t attract much.
It’s just too pale and flat that I need to be repainted.

My pages printed
that of old Romans and Greek style.
Oh, I doubt!
No body will touch for sure.
I’m praying that someone will like me.

I am not astray of course!
I am but a pioneer.
The time gave me life
though modernity brings new taste.
Oh! Better to be wine.
But I am not of its kind to be fermented.
As to be the best wine presence in all occasion.

How long will I stay in this place?
I’m tired now sitting here years long.
I could see already all the marks
and forms in my room even if
I close my eyes.
I know how many people come at this hour,
and I can tell you what time madam Librarian leave.
I know those people who pretend to be good
and wise reader but a theft.

I’m in my world now
just within your world
I was formless and with out life
Just as unremembered dreams.
I’m now but a dying piece
left in your stored room.

Before I will be taken away
I have good messages waiting for you,
Kindly open and read my pages
I’d made your grandpa’s generation
fully happy and alive!