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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