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The crinkle of thin, newsprint pages turning, A scent of ink and vibrant colors burning, A rush of excitement, a familiar, happy sigh, As stories waited, just beyond the eye. Into young minds, a weekly, treasured quest, The latest issue putting hearts at rest. That glossy cover, a promise bold and bright, A hero posed prepared to win the fight. Or maybe monsters lurking in the gloom, Whispering tales that banished any room For boredom, fear, or anything mundane, Just worlds unfolding in sunshine and in rain. The ads inside for toys we couldn't wait, X-ray specs and gadgets, sealing childhood's fate. Letters to the editor, a sacred space, Where fervent fans could share their thoughts and grace The hallowed pages, with opinions strong, Debating storylines, where did they go wrong? The panels flowed, a visual, grand design, Speech balloons bursting, with a punchy line. Sound effects bold, BAM! POW! across the page, Fueling the action, in a youthful, joyful rage Of imagination soaring high and free, Believing heroes were just waiting to be. The anticipation built from week to week, For cliffhangers solved, the secrets they would leak. The origin stories retold and known by heart, Each hero's struggle playing a vital part In shaping values, right and wrong defined, Leaving impressions on a growing mind. We'd trade and swap with friends on sunlit lawns, Discussing powers since the early dawns Of our obsession, folding pages neat, Protecting treasures from the grime of street. Those worn-out copies, tattered, loved, and old, More precious than the stories they once told. Now digital screens display a vibrant hue, But nothing matches that first wondrous view, Of a comics magazine held tight within our hand, A portal opened to a magical land. A nostalgic echo of a simpler, brighter day, When heroes graced the newsstands come what may. ©bfa040625
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