Daunting Sentences

I am what looks to be a ceaseless novel,

Pages upon pages of words that are strung together by careful thoughts.

Intimidating my peers,

Making them think I am impossible to get through.

But I have an inviting cover and an interesting synopsis.

Will they venture to break the untouched bind?

Or will they just take it off the shelf and dust it off, skimming through the pages?

Each chapter is different, capturing an exquisite mood,

Taking a different turn on every page.

Am I a confounding mystery?

Or perhaps a heartbreaking tragedy?

There are scratched out phrases,

And coffee stain blots decorating the paper.

Some of the pages have rips and tears,

Sentences are blurred because of bothersome tears dripping into the ink.

In many chapters, you can hear the laughter bouncing through words,

A song of merriment gently humming with the letters,

Is it conceivable that I might be a touching inspirational piece?

There are small bits of humiliation,

Careless errors like misspelled words and run-on sentences,

Little flaws that make the book less than perfect.

Maybe you could say I’m just mediocre text…

Bold opinions are laced through sentences,

Printed in what seems to be inerasable ink.

Words roaring from the piece making you want to shut the whole thing.

I suppose I could be a persuasive essay-

Or maybe I’m every genre that you could imagine?

Each chapter showcasing a new, different side,

Expressing my thoughts through paper and pen,

Leaving myself out there for you to devour and analyze.

Take what you want from my endless words after you dissect me,

But do not dare judge me by just my cover.