The Book

The Book

A book is somewhere I can hide,
it gives relief from the pain inside.


Another world existing only in our minds,
reality of another kind.


You can go there but not travel at all.
An escape from within your walls.


The dark shadows of the dawn,
when hope seems lost and dreams forlorn.


A book lays beside my bed.
I will travel there in my head.


Finally sleep arrives.


The book has helped me to survive.

© 2018 Taylor Crowshaw


◄ An Acorn's Story

Too Short for Shorts ►


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Fri 10th Aug 2018 21:11

As an older guy I would just like to say that your poem expresses a universal desire which I still rely on at night - the comfort and the freedom is all there, not intrusive and not a trial to the eye like the big brother screen, so obscene!


Big Sal

Fri 10th Aug 2018 19:09

When I was in 6th grade, I remember my science teacher telling me that by 2012 all book stores would be out of business and only e-books would exist by then. I thought 'What an idiot'. I'm glad I was right.

On a side note and more to the point of your poem, I think this one in particular would make an excellent poem right next to a frontispiece, or maybe as an epigraph on it. It's the perfect type to rope a fellow reader in with coordinated interests.

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Fri 10th Aug 2018 15:47

A brief verse full of meaning transmitting how a book can take you into another world,like a good poem can.

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Daemon Cantrell

Fri 10th Aug 2018 15:40

Excellent poem escapism is wonderful!

Kate G

Fri 10th Aug 2018 14:31

I can relate to the wonder of escaping in a good book.

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Don Matthews

Fri 10th Aug 2018 10:22

I like this Taylor 😎

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Brian Maryon

Fri 10th Aug 2018 08:56

Hi Taylor - I like the idea of travel without leaving home.

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