The book was blue,
Or was it.
It was the second
she gave him.
The first he lost
While serving his god.
It is worn now,
a little too "real"
One page is missing,
his daughter removed.
When one was small,
together they read.
Twas an accident,
a gift they now share.
In the closet sat it,
other things replaced it.
Now she is gone,
out if the closet it came.
Will it become,
even more real.
And a little less blue,
to unite them still.
