Remember the bindings
Remembering the Binding
When I was a child
I was wild, about reading of course
Any chance I could get
I'd grab a book from a shelf
Anything that was within reach.
Flip through the pages
I read each word
And imagine myself is someone's else's life
Wether I'd be the wife, the daughter,
the student or maid I'd find joy
In someone else's story.
It was my escape from reality
To feel my fingers on each page and see,
All the values life had for me.
To live, to learn, to love.
To be kind, to be sweet, to be helpful.
To be selfless and thoughtful more than the average woman
And stand up for what I believe.
As the years go on
And each page gets thinner
All the way to the point it doesn't exist.
Slide left and you can get the chapter
Reading could be much much faster.
Digital books in almost everyone's hands
Paper books in almost every corner.
Untouched and dusty,
The pages no longer absorbing oil.
Yet the stories lay in open sight,
Every heartbreak, adventure and every fight
Waiting to be touched once more and give the thrill
that was given with each turn of the page.
With new technology some may forget what it was like
to read in the dark with a flashlight,
To picture the colors and have them
appear in the night and dance across your face
To never disappear even when you close your eyes.
No bright screen to keep you awake, no notifications
To distract you, no picture perfect casing
only the pages slowly falling apart in your hands
To tell the story of how the story was read many times.
Even though the stories are the same
On paper or on an app
I miss the sensation of looking at a book case
And remembering the tale that comes with the
name printed on the binding.