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.