Book Of Life Poem by Denice Woods

My body is tired
My mind is old
My heart is lonely
My soul is cold
I waited for redemption
and wound up in Purgatory
My life was just a paragraph
Now my life's a whole damned story
Sometimes I wish it was a fable
And I was able to change
Certain chapters
If life is supposed to be predestined
I wish the writer would stop writing
Finish the book already
My pages are ripping
The ink is running
Down my cheeks
And the plot's too heavy.
I haven't slept for weeks.
So please
Put the pen down
Or at least take a hiatus
Because from the subject of the story's point of view
This book of life is overrated.