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Abandoned printouts sometimes contain very interesting stuff. It's a little voyeuristic picking them up and seeing if they are likely additions to the scratch pile, or something someone is likely to come back for. This needs some spelling and tense corrections, and a choice of word other than "din" which seems completely inappropriate, but I've recorded it verbatim to preserve the moment.
My pages were curled and yellow.
My leather sides rubbed raw
My uncracked spine
Caked in dust and worn smooth by tapping fingers.
The table legs scraped
Against the wood floor
And the sheep's bleating
Echoes through the empty room.
The gold leafed letters
Etched on my spine read
Simply journal four
A wax candle dripped
On a wooden table
Adding rhythm to the din.
My yellowed pages cracked
And probing finger grab my spine
The warmth and oil
Soak and sooth my broken skin.
My pages were curled and yellow.
My leather sides rubbed raw
My uncracked spine
Caked in dust and worn smooth by tapping fingers.
The table legs scraped
Against the wood floor
And the sheep's bleating
Echoes through the empty room.
The gold leafed letters
Etched on my spine read
Simply journal four
A wax candle dripped
On a wooden table
Adding rhythm to the din.
My yellowed pages cracked
And probing finger grab my spine
The warmth and oil
Soak and sooth my broken skin.
