Little Red Book
Oh little book of mine
with your little glued–in spine
no one will ever know
how stiff you are
They’ll never know that beneath those music sheets
the secrets of a rushing artist
Stains on your velveteen
From Fingers not so clean
Little book your structure so tight
only the artist knows it isn’t right
mesh in between though the pages seem
crisp, perfect feigning pristine
Ah, but a trick
One bone folder, a tub of glue
music paper, now good as new
Now little book of red
no one will know, instead
they’ll think your perfect
something to admire
they’ll never know little book
that you we