Bad Poem One

I am a well worn book with a tattered cover seeking a reader who will embrace me and love me despite my flaws.

My spine is bent and pealing, gaps showing cracked glue and unevenly tacked pages.

I have been tossed into a bin along with old westerns, space operas, and a few romance novels.

People pass by, scarcely glancing at me even though my wrinkled cover art depicts a large busted women in animal skin garments.

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