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Rated: E · Poetry · Hobby/Craft · #1534372
How I feel when reading my books.
Behind my books I hide in another world,

I hang onto every word, wait for answers to be unfurld.

I block out all that is around me,

And put on headphones so they know to let me be.

Soon sense of time leaves my mind.

Everyone's so ignorant, so blind,

Rushing back and forth, here and there,

But they're all trapped, going no where.

They're all so wrong, I don't knwo where to begin,

Trying to be like one another, to fit in.

Here I'm no one, a spec of dust,

So I only stay, unnoticed, if I must.

In my books, far away

If I could, I would spend all day.

Joining Pirates, traveling time, so many adventures,

Undiscovered lands, new people, fantastic creatures.

There I'm important, the main character of my story.

Every one knows who I am, so much fame and glory.

I'm the bravest and smartest, always saving the day,

Never scared or discouraged, no matter what they say.

In my world of books is where I belong,

Here, everything just seems so wrong.

No one respects me or takes me seriously,

And they never listen when I say they hurt me.

So, for now, with my books I make up for all they lack,

Who knows, maybe one day I just won't come back.
© Copyright 2009 Courtney (vermontpure008 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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