The Book Poem by Tony Adah

Everyday the sun rises and set
We toil or laze-gaze at the world
Turning into something else
In all we do,
The act is is to open a book
Read it up or flip through the pages
Looking some pages and others
Just a piece of bland pie
In the mouth.
The day comes and the day goes
The dog eared book succumbs
To turning front or back
History in this book is not important
Everyone flips forward
Towards the glossary to find
Where the explanations will finish
The meaning of words
Leaving the blurb where our six feet
Hole awaits our breathless chest
The only piece we owned
That was not ours as we will lay
And leave the book for others
To read or flip through.