Knowledge is hidden in there somewhere,
With every page flip I fall in love,
It's such a strange feeling and quiet rare,
A gem every reader must have.
And that's my way with books,
Taking the time to digest all the words,
And that's your way with books,
A succinct collection of spoken words.
In my thoughts I conceal them with locks,
For every oversight I conceive as my loss,
Words rent a space then they go loose,
Yet you accommodate if you so choose.
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