Bookworm
I’ve a book of ancient freedom
Where the animals walk free
When I’m down, I come to see them
And they cure me easily
I’ve a book of old ghost stories
Ghosts appear in my room
And I host them with no worries
Till they vanish in the gloom
There are books of travel guides
With the places and the views
Some of which I recognize
Closer than the rest they choose
Lots of other books I own
I can read them just to find
The reminder that I’m home
And at least I’m still not blind
But the book of hope I lack
On my shelves it lost its place
I would like to buy it back
But it’s out of print these days
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