Poem: Books

Another poem on one of the loves of my life (other than my family) – books!

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Books!

 

Open or closed, thick or thin,
I look upon them as my kin

My life is a paradox because I hate to open them
But, at the same time, I have to devour them as soon as I open them

Their smell intoxicates me as none other
In them, I can ask a question and find an answer

I love to have them everywhere
Even on a chair and under the stair

Parting with one is a sweet sorrow
Happy to have someone to bestow
But my heart breaks when parting with them though

Have you figured out who or what I am talking about?
What I am trying to say all in a way that is roundabout?

Why, this is all about books,
My love, my obsession, my life’s passbook

Books are your best friend, your silent pal
The ones who are there for you, part of your cabal!

 

 

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