The Man Who Love Books

By Little Mushroom

In one corner I saw a man with a book on his hands.
He is reading solemnly as I wonder, “What could it be?”
I’m amazed of his sanity.

His silence filled me with astonishment and admiration.
It delights me for no reason.
I’m dumbfounded by his light when he asked me what I want in life.

Through time, he unveiled me his vulnerability, and it interests me.
He writes a poem that touches soul with his own creativity.
I marvel if it’s an escape to reality in one’s leisure time called hobby.

How can I raise a question, “Excuse me?” when he’s with books all day.
“I’m an open book.” he answered me, and it tickled my heart obviously.
Then I called him names “Boss Baby”, he giggled repeatedly.

I enjoy his company really undeniably.
I want to see him personally, but he is too far from me,
He captivates me in ways no soul ever will, and I can’t thank him enough for it.