This Old Tome


Alice Draper, Student Author

Worn-out, exhausted
This tome starts to fade
Once with crisp entries
It welcomes its grave


Scholars adored it
Or so it did think
Selfishly used it
While chafing its ink


Crying, depleted
This rotting tome grieves
Pages to dust while
recalling its thieves


Crumpling to nothing
It breaths its last sigh
Used and abused was
its life, only wry