Book Of Life Poem by EC David

I have wondered how a person can read a book over and over knowing what is written on each page in every chapter. Knowing all the twists and turns the characters in the book will face. I fail to see the excitement in not being able to change the outcome or somehow forget what has been written. As it is often referred to, our lives are like books filled with pages and chapters. I realized that I have never really read the book I have written. It’s heavily bound with a hardcover layered in a thick dust. Weathered as it should be. While reading my book I found myself experiencing all of the emotions that I had once felt before, and that I had forgotten who I really was. I forgot how I became me. I somehow lost sight of my goals and all of the things I love about being me. I spent so much time trying to put the square peg in the circle slot, rather than letting the pieces fit in to place as they were intended. Why did this take so long to figure out? All I can conclude with is that I’m excited to turn the page and move on to the next chapter and always remember to take time to reread my book.