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The Book
I wait patiently
Perched upon this shelf
People pass me by
Without even a glance
My pages gather dust
My binding is worn
I watch with envy
As the others are pulled away
Then one day
When the library was quiet
As it always was
I felt a curious eye on me
And then a gentle hand
I was carefully pulled
From my place upon the shelf
And to my great delight
I was opened and read
Every word on my every page
Was read with fascination
I was cradled
In the readers hands
And was taken to their home
Where I was read
Day and night
Until I longed to be put down
And when at last the story ended
I was put back on the shelf
Ever since then
My story has been told
Over and over
To people so different
That they all seemed the same
Satisfied with my tale
I snuggled deeper into my shelf
Waiting for the next adventurer
To glance my way
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