PAGES My life starts out like a book, not yet a cover, Nothing inside page one, still not printed. My story constantly being written with every breath, How many pages there will be not known till the end. This title was imagined before my creation, Cover too cover is mine to write as I walk my life. With each turning page I illustrate my own time, The one just before this just a memory in my mind. Stay open it does until my story is told, Until I’ve been published this mans’ book will not be closed.

For this week’s Waxing Poetic Wednesday, I am pleased to share a poem from one of my favorite bloggers Keith Garrett.

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