Books are wonderful things
full and covered with ink.
They smell like so much knowledge
and have such a weighty presence
indicating all the fabulous things
I have stuffed into my head
But the ink wears off on my fingers
and the pages
become brittle when you read them
over and over
and now the electronic words
don't impress you on my shelf
but the ink only wears off
in my head
and it is the words that I love
and not the representation
thereof
full and covered with ink.
They smell like so much knowledge
and have such a weighty presence
indicating all the fabulous things
I have stuffed into my head
But the ink wears off on my fingers
and the pages
become brittle when you read them
over and over
and now the electronic words
don't impress you on my shelf
but the ink only wears off
in my head
and it is the words that I love
and not the representation
thereof
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