The Looking Glass

 Alice came with me to a far away land. At least this one wasn't filled with sand. She handed me a page from the ground.  And found a trail that wound and wound. We followed it through the trees And through the clear We followed it to the hole,That dropped us off here.  Where would I be without my books? I'd be off with the mooks. Knowledge is key I learned from somebody.  Reading It's like looking through a looking glass vicariously living an experience of another that makes you feel cultured.  As Jo Stockton said It's all about empathy,and nothing about this face is funny.  So I'll keep flipping the pages of my books. Making sure I don't become a schnook.  And I'll feel all the emotionsthat the writer wrote with such devotions,to make me see the ways of the world. Realising I can take a pebble and make it a pearl.  what would I be without my books?  They give me comfort and make me think. Oh All the things I'm imagining.

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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