The pages of a book
lie open and clear
Filled with a world
Very few ever hear

A story spills out
Not told but relived
Not asking for approval
Much less to forgive

It was never hidden
Always in plain sight
Just hard to begin
The time rarely right

And yet when found
The pages turn free
Read end to end
Proving hard to believe

Now it stands complete
While ink still flows
The story you hear
Will change and grow

Always as it was
Just a different perspective
That book lying open
No longer needs protected