The Pages

What fascinates me about these pages?

Is it the stories and the fantasies,

My mind filling to it's capacities,

My hands Occ'pied, always it engages,

Their tales raging on through the ages,

In these pages I see no fallacies,

These Leaflets show all abnormalities,

As I travel through life's many stages,

Full of love in it's smelly old bindings,

Taking me out of my personal Hell,

To jump into a sea of words that haunt,

Libretto, complex, a dirt road winding,

And to my favorite books I'll not sell,

My books are my breath, my life as a savant.