Few things I like more than an empty house and a stack of books
The way I steal the wisdom from these words some may call me a crook
Rightfully so, knowledge stolen
My eyes beat that book! Pages swollen
It was a friendly duel; duel indeed
I used to cut school, go home and read
Once read a whole book while sitting in a tree
It was a small book but great to me

My eyes are heavy
But my thoughts are light
My past is calm
But my future excites
No job, no classroom to attend
Inked paper, my most trusted friend
Always here through work and play
My notebook hangs on each word I say
Her pages always remember my words
Some wise, some kind, and some absurd
Always here, always here, always here with me
When I look back on her pages, it’s me I see
She is a wonderful reflection of myself
My frozen thoughts now live on a shelf
Page after page, after page I’ve filled
Book after book, after book I’ve killed