Moving Out/ Selling Books

Boxes stacked so high they almost touch the indoor sky
Brown in color with colored words and you're left wondering why
Why do I have to go out on my own?
Why is no amount of kindness is being shown?

I sigh as a lady comes to me with a book I was in love with once
I try not to cry as my books get sold to someone who looks like a dunce
I try to hold it together but I know
I have to let my precious things and books go

Tears build up so quickly
As my things are sold swiftly
I cry a little but they don't know
How many memories of lonely nights my books secretly show

I watch as a man looks at a little metal box I use to store paperclips
He stuck up his nose and put it down as the box has many chips
Anger as people look at my things slowly fills my heart
For these things and my books can easily be ripped apart

I try to keep my act together
As the seasons change to stormy weather
I am the last yard sale of the year
And I pray quietly that my things will be kept dear

I give a book to a child for free
Happy that the little girl looks a lot like me
She smiles and looks at some more
I give her a bag and let her into my houses door

I have more things laying about
Things that would make most people scream or shout
A spider in a bottle, A set of snake fangs, a bag filled with bone
Shinned and polished until their inner light is shown

I hate to depart with my beloved things
But in exchange for them I get a pair of wings
I have to let go of the past if I want a brand new start
But getting rid of my beloved books is simply breaking my heart

Boxes and boxes filled to the brim of books that are old
Are set out so neatly to be bartered with and sold
I try not to cry as someone just walks by
Stop and look at my wares, buy them or I will parish and die

At least die a little on the inside that is to say
For who wants old books in this modern day?
I cry and I cry behind my hands
And pretend to smile as my friends help me stand

They tell me to go rest and they'll take care of the sale
They tell me to go wash my face and that I am looking rather pale
I smile and thank God for good friends
The kind that helps through the many ends

I smile and go lay down in my bare bed
I then watch the tears fall out of my head
Then I get up and go to the window
As my things start to simply go.

One book, two books, three books, four
Books that I will see no more
I cry as no one will ever see
For those old dusty books are a part of me

Finally the sale is over and the day is done
And the deal is finally won
I have my glorious brand new wings
In exchange for dusty books and my beloved things

I take off bidding farewell
To the people who helped with my grand yard sale
I finally can fly as high as the sky
No more will I cry for dusty books are still a part of me, myself and I