Books, their amazing soft pages, there letters worth more than the finest gold or diamond. The simple covers that open to a world of new emotions and wonders. Oh the stories they can tell and do. Their soft corners as I carry them in my arms. The smell of a new book, oh how it differs from that of the old. The yellow pages show age and love, but the writing on the covers show no love. For what are we without books my dear, but simple fools ingoing our fears. For with no knowledge there are skills we lack, say good bye to your dreams, and yellow to that crack. The world is better when a books is born, so open its pages and let your brain absorb, the stories it has to tell to let you know, that when you have a book your never alone.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Books
Books, their amazing soft pages, there letters worth more than the finest gold or diamond. The simple covers that open to a world of new emotions and wonders. Oh the stories they can tell and do. Their soft corners as I carry them in my arms. The smell of a new book, oh how it differs from that of the old. The yellow pages show age and love, but the writing on the covers show no love. For what are we without books my dear, but simple fools ingoing our fears. For with no knowledge there are skills we lack, say good bye to your dreams, and yellow to that crack. The world is better when a books is born, so open its pages and let your brain absorb, the stories it has to tell to let you know, that when you have a book your never alone.
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