God, how many times have you climbed the rickety stairs to the attic,
brushing back the cobwebs and tinkering with the light
You know,
the one that never did work right.
Squeaked the floor beneath you with each gentle step
making your way to the same musty corner.
Heaved the heavy lid of the same old chest
where a book was laying inside.
Pulling it out, you dusted it off, and
letting out a tired sigh,
made your way out of the corner
Across the aged floor
Through the sticky cobwebs
Past the broken lightbulb
Down the rickety stairs
And into the world
To teach us again
What we have known for so long.
