Please do me read
I am in the book
Not on its cover
Just open the door of the book
And read me
I am tired of being hidden in this book
My beauty not gracing your eyes nor accentuating your looks
My story fading within me
Like a stack of gold forgotten in poverty
I was written by one who treasured
And you know treasures must be covered
But you prefer watching the damn cover
Than taking the effort to keenly read me
How can a wrapped toffee taste sweet?
One day I may escape from this book
To the one who can see and read
And I’ll never ever turn back
No matter your promises to me read.
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014.
Mum Cee 