Leah Palmer

Come

Lose yourself

In the pages of a book

That you took

From experiences grim

Come

Find yourself

Between papers of a tome

In the home

You created  countries in.

If Ink 

Speaks to you

More than voices ever could

If the smell

Of the page

Is more tangible than wood

If your heart

Beats in time

To philological rail

Then you 

Are a child of the tale.