Sit a Bit

Come set beside me and read, my shoulder overlook,
I'm easy still to figure out, I'm open as a book.

I try to wear my inner self, veiled, hid from public view,
but when I type or pen my thoughts, I show myself to you.

I'd like to have mystique, demure and dreamy as my goal,
but callous I, rough around the edges, a ship, dragging on a Shoal.

My time upon the earth will shortly be remembered,
a burnt up branch, a twig or leaf, that's barely even embered.