I open it,
And the bookish smell fills the air.
I’d rather be here
For here I have a world
Of my own
Which I control,
But I also don’t.
Sometimes they’re hardcovers,
Sometimes they’re paperbacks
And on each word my imagination hovers
And after, I always end up looking back.
Some are mysterious, some serious
Some are romantic, some tragic
But all of them have a magic
Which leaves me spellbound
Addicted to it, astound.
They kindle my senses,
Marvellous through my lenses
They’ll always be close to my heart
No amount of work can keep me apart.
They go slowly, build up the tension
As I read with rapt attention
Each of them leaves me
With a new message
Leading me to it
Through a different passage.
Even though I leave some unread,
And some words unsaid,
They’ll appeal to me forever
And each book I get my hands on
I will devour.
And when they climax
I’m pulled into a trance
I sit there with my heart in my mouth,
Hoping that things don’t go south.
Sometimes they give me closure,
Sometimes they leave me wondering,
But to new worlds, they give me exposure,
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