Torn Pages

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It is my sketch book full of the details of many shoes
It has some clean and stained dog eared lined sheets
It can pass for an encyclopedia of slender birch twigs
It breathes in the wind as a child playing by his daddy
It ripped between two fingers of a careless dancer
Torn Pages pictures the event of a stain glass fresco

It had marks of the misstep as a couple waltz slowly
It rather should have been a tango to the fast beats
It was torn so badly the age old sheets are into shreds
It cannot be rewritten what was on the original copy
It may have a chance to keen memories that persist
Torn Pages profiles a purple book off life’s dusty shelf

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