Love. Break. Fix. Repeat.

Bookdragon, not Bookworm

7 pm,

The door squeaks,

The sound of two footsteps sneaking in quietly

The same old dusty room,

boring for the world, heaven for some chosen ones

seventeen, and coming here on a Saturday night?

"Go, get a life!" people would say,

But where would they understand,

The essence of living thousands,

While sitting on that old rocking chair.

The world could call her a nerd,

a bookworm, even boring sometimes,

but she lives in a world of her own.

Words fill up her life.

But it's not her fault!

These books steal her heart,

And she's been a hopeless romantic from the start.

"Go out and see the real world", her mum would often say

But could the real one, give her the magic that the words portray?

She's lived and died with them, cursed and cried for them,

Those are not characters; they are a part of her soul!!!!

But never would this world understand,

The unjust disparity in crying over your favorite character,

"you haven't even met them!!" they'd say,

"I've lived their life with them" she'd reply.

She's just a muggle, she's accepted it,

Never got the letter, neither is she going to get it,

But the magic, is now a part of her,

Cuz it absorbs her tears when no one's there to listen.

It gives her the strength to live in this world,

Knowing that not many know of this magical book- world,

And she's at least one of the chosen ones.

So, this poem was more like a personal feeling. If you like to read, you'll probably hopefully be able to relate. If you don't like to read, please try once- it's awesome, trust me.

Little Harry Potter references, if you haven't read, read please, hehe.  

Love,

A