Between the pages, I am free,
A thousand worlds belong to me.
With every word, I drift away,
Into a life beyond today.
The turning of a simple page
Can calm my heart or spark my rage.
A quiet place where I can roam,
Within these stories, I find home.
The characters, they feel so real,
Their joys and sorrows, I can feel.
In every chapter, I become
A part of something greater, one.
I travel far, through time and space,
Yet never leave my quiet place.
In books, I find a friend so true,
Whose world I step into, anew.
When life feels heavy, hard to bear,
I find my refuge waiting there.
In lines of ink, in stories told,
I find my courage, soft yet bold.
For books are more than paper, ink—
They make me pause, they make me think.
They shape my heart, they fill my mind,
A love that leaves the world behind.
So as I read, my spirit soars,
Through ancient lands, through future doors.
Between the pages, I am free—
Each book a gift, a key,
To me.
