He Gave Her a Book

He gave her a book she refuses to name, She gave it a look and saw her claim. He circled in red the verse she needed to read Her eyes tears shed from a heart that disagreed. “Always and ever I’d perpetually come back, If only I knew I wouldn’t consistently lack. Hearts can be greater with whom they’re entwined, And I couldn’t bear to suffocate you with mine.” The rest of the book did not seem so sad She learned to love it for the dreams it had. She held it dear when it became strength through storms, She treasured it dearly for the comfort when she was worn. Her beloved book showed her secrets to lead Her lovely leather bound taught warnings to heed. Her cherished composition created cravings to conquer. Her prized prose inspired in every hardship to press onward. He gave her a book that she refuses to name If you ask her the question she’ll tell you the same. It’s a book about hope and despair, courage and fear, It tells tales of loss and care, those distant, those near. He gave her a book she refuses to name Because it’s part of her, and proves her claim. She has written in red what she needs to remember Her fire is her own, she stoked every ember. He gave her a book that she couldn’t name It was her whole life, every refrain. Because it wasn’t a book to read every page It was hers to make with every new age. Wins and losses, hope and pain Her “Book of Love, of Life” was the journal she claimed.