On the seat right next to mine
there was an old & torn book.
Faded ink on it spoke of a time,
Long gone now. It seemed bespoke.
Out of habit to turn pages,
My eyes started running over the faded words.
A few pages later there was a bookmark
on which written were these words…
Once you read, place the marker into the next page
and write a few lines about yourself,
Become a part of the book of age.
Keep it back on the seat, this was never meant for a bookshelf.
Upon doing as instructed I figured, I was reader number 511.
The book once belonged to this traveller
Who wished to meet the World.
Alas! he could not for time ran out. He was a believer.
He was reader number 001
and now I was a part of his world.