I feel like a mystery suspense cliff hanger in a series of books that is never finished. As of yet, I, of course, only fill a couple chapters, but sooner or later my book will be full and I will have to move on to another.
Except for the few pages of my past,
My life is an empty book.
It takes the shape of a mystery,
To me it does at least.
For I cannot tell what happens next,
Too many cliffhangers and too much suspense.
But its clues all lead eventually to the same place,
Unfortunately it does not say where.
It only says get the next book,
For in this one you've ran out of room.
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(c) 1999 Philip Zemler Please respect the rights of the author and Passions in Poetry. If you would like to use this poem on your own web page, please contact the Author. Thank you.
