The Book

This is a little bit of a older poem but i really like it and i think that it would fit in here nicely

The Book
By-Damen Geisler

i found a book
it was wrinkled and
torn at the seem
i wonder to myself
under who's arm
was it carefully stowed?
in who's bag was
it neatly kept?
was it a lad in
his finest years?
or a lass who's
tears splashed on
the whitest paper.
nay,was it a
professor in the
finest of academia
of the day. wait,
with in the cover
tells the master
the scribbles sharp
and worn. it was so
vague i couldn't
read it. i dusted
off the pages,
and closed
the faded cover,
that will forever
hold it's secret.