The Library
Pages turned,
In a great room so grand.
Thousand silent words spoken,
Where silence is never broken.
Where scholars, poets, and great minds gather,
What a place it is to wonder.
The once place that can’t be bought,
To be possessed for them or mine.
Libraries are what I first think,
When my brain is aching to think.
I wrote this poem,
Because it was the first I could think.
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