Books

Worlds away, yet by my side.

Easy to see, but sometimes hides.

Laughing and crying.

Living and diying.

It maybe just paper to you, but the things i see in them always come through.

Books of dragons, rangers, and rings. 

Just these little things.

Make me happy beond most things.

Books. 

Just, books make that me dream.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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