Bibliophilia

The only magic I know,

Can be found inside a book.

The story never varies,

And the text is still the same,

Yet every time I read those words again,

I somehow find new meaning,

This same book with these same words,

Leaves me changed each time somehow,

Different paragraphs and passages stick out,

And reveal new truths I couldn’t see before.

Lines that I read a dozen times,

Now have the power to make me cry.

My likeness to the protagonist only grows,

I’m dumbfounded and in awe of this.

A book I read when I was twelve,

Is still relevant at twenty-two,

And will be even more when I read it again.

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