The jute cover crackled as it turned
Stiff with the years it had lain, forgotten.
It revealed pages of results and hopes;
Yellowed paper made of dreams,
Sometimes accomplished, sometimes not.
The parchments were sheathed in clear plastic,
To better preserve its longevity.
Small and straight stood little hazy symbols.
Some scrolls of achievement they seemed.
Some meaningless numbers; some blots.
Higher and higher those numbers went.
Higher and higher people wanted to score.
Faded ink and crumpled paper
Had decided twists and turns on life’s path.
Indifferent they appeared now.
They played too minor a part to matter.
Their legacy a record of persistence and admiration.
Hers lost among the millions who received it.
As the pages of life closed on her,
A final certificate was nestled inside.