Confounded by this imagery
Exponentially excellent
Poignant to the third power
Sunny, yellow, song-filled years
Their brilliance blinded you
Splashed across the cover
Much, much more than metaphors
Words you no had time for

This that you never wanted
And couldn’t be bothered to invest in
Yet might’ve someday deserved
Will always want you
To read with
To rhyme with
Dog-eared, these glorious pages
This book of Days