I go to a dead tree room, to grab a dried out tree
Off of the thick inch wide wood that holds them all.
I tear the front back and start to roam the vast world, into which I have now fallen.
I am far from home but I do not mind, for it takes me to another.
One where myths are true, animals can talk, and children rule.
One where love conquers all, till the end of time, and matters most.
A place full of magic with tons of loyal friends.
Ones you have not met yet, and others you want to visit over again.
These trees may be no more but the stories they hold, these stories will live on for years beyond our lives.
These trees, these stories, these books, will live on for all time.
