The Poem Of A Bookworm


I’m a bookworm, and indignant as well

When people rather nosily question

The point of loving books so much,

The cause of my obsession?

I used to answer, and explain to them

Why I long for those lovely stories; simple!

Yet, they must not understand,

For they recommend to me: A Kindle!

Oh yes, it has its good points, I’m sure

But I do hope you understand:

The difference between that and books

Are that of sea and land.

I’m tired of answering again and again

So I’ll jot it down in this poem

Why I love ‘em books so much

So that (no offence) you’d leave me alone.

Books, let me tell; each one is so unique!

They have that certain magic

It makes us feel we’re watching it all,

Be it happy or funny or tragic.

Oh, these memories, they really do

Seem to engrave themselves in our heart

How the characters and readers combine:

Makes us cherish each and every part.

We nod our heads with laughter

Or we sob and drop the tears

Or with delight and bated breath

As every part does so adheres.

They entwine themselves so,

Within our book-inspired dreams

We become a part of them!

Or it certainly seems!

I’d suggest, if you DON’T feel the same,

The open one; give it a try!

And experience it all yourself

As you laugh and giggle and cry.

Like if you can relate!


5 thoughts on “The Poem Of A Bookworm

  1. SOOOO RELATABLE!!!!! 😀 and wth r dose ppls prob??Just lemme wallow in d buks in peace 😀 😛

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