Bookish Things

Ignorance is a blissful cage,

When caught up in the lights and rage;

It’s nice to jump into the page

Of a lovely book and just forget.

To hear the voices of the friends

Who will adore you till the end;

And though they live near your bookend,

You are caught in their charming net.

The words of our dear Robert Frost,

As he leads you through the woods, lost;

But in the end there is no cost

For all the things that you will get.

And dear, though it is pleasant here,

I would not trade a single year,

Or a drop of my salty tears,

For Bookish Things I can’t regret.


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