‘Everyday Words’ Picture Book

Your cover is the deception of happiness, no one saw you cry,
Not just on the out but on the inside.
Dents and fingerprints that always missed the naked eye,
All over your face, all over they do lie.
Markings of people that have come and departed,
Never really finishing what you have started.

Your spine, as weak as cotton to the touch,
Unable to support as much.
You hold different inscriptions but all by the same writer,
While your purpose was becoming idle, theirs became brighter.
Who would have thought you were a gift?

You are within my vision but are not within my reach,
‘Everyday words’ that you can no longer teach.
Just like the life that you no longer live,
Your fingerprint is the only determinative.

Your fraying corners rob the value of your face,
Threatening to fade a memory that was never erased.
Your insides are bent, creased, pinched and warped,
It's hard to believe your hand use to be here before.