If I Were A Book Poem by March Nicks

You are a new and shiny book
Your pages are just waiting to be turned
Your words are just waiting to be read
Your covers are yearning to be held

Your creator has poured their heart and soul
The fiber of what matters to them
Into you, so that someone else
Will share their experience

You share a shelf with others
Some are new and shiny
While others have been worn by the thread of time
All just waiting for their moment

But things change
Your friends begin to disappear from shelves
Rumors about their content begin to spread
You are so very confused

Will you be next?
Will your words be the ones stripped from shelves
Silenced and muted
Because they no longer fit the narrative

What is the narrative anyways?
Is it that ideas different from ours are just too dangerous
That we must shield our children
From thinking outside of the box?

They say that history is written by the victor,
But how will we ever read it
If we are no longer interested
In it's chapters?

For now, you will sit on a shelf.
Waiting and watching
Hoping and praying you will not
Be next on the list.