The Book

The Book

They say you can’t judge a book by its cover
Take this old leather bound book,
Its cover bears no title, no author,
But to the trained eye it tells so much more

They could see the red blood soaked into the leather
They could see the black of a slight burn
They could see the mark of a tire upon it
They could see the bite marks upon its spine.

But despite the atrocities committed against this book
If they where to open it, it could tell,

Tell of a birth, the birth of a king,
Tell of this king’s teachings,
Tell how he was mocked and ridiculed,
Tell of his death, cruelly nailed to a cross,
Tell how he rose again, defying death
It would tell the greatest story, of all

Maybe we should be more like, the book.

Poem By : Ethan