Eraser

In a book
With edges frayed
And pages worn,
There I once
Wrote of a
Love I thought so pure,
A love that consumed
My very soul,
Was I too young
Was I naive,
Does love truly exist
Or is it just
A passing fade,
Words written in happiness
Words written in hope,
Written with no
Knowledge of heartbreak,
A life I never wish
To write about again,
I wish for a devotion
Without lies
Without deceptions,
I wish to erase
The days I was blinded
By an impure love