Passed Over

PASSED OVER

Here I lie again......

Dusty tome, unread by men.

Cover a little worn

but not too terribly bad,

My shining gilded edge

Still enough to attract,

Some would be scholar

to momentarily

gaze upon my words.

And dissatisfied to find no pictures

Only deep metaphors

and riddles,

Lays me aside.....

In pursuit of a knowledge

much easier to obtain.