PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Books that exist before me, books that exist now united at my heart like an arrow and a bow the buzz of your passing pages sound like a honey bee, your yellow and crisp pages the black blood in them of them  I'm just a condemned sentenced to read for ages. I remember the first book that I read, it was during high school, It was a project that was given to us by old teacher that book that I choose to read was described as wonderful fantasy filled with amazing creatures as soon as I opened it I was astonished and I didn’t close it until I ended that magnificent story when I finished I regretted for all the time missed ignoring the existence of the books, oh my I have been such a fool. As soon as the project was finished I ran to the library looking for another book at the local library to revive that beautiful feeling of reading, I walked through hall after hall full of books looking for something that will catch my attention, my heart was pounding, oh I was feeling such  a great tension, my eyes were looking at all covers at once all of them were of different colors, while at the same time my hand caressed the book covers some of them were made of old and wrinkled leather while others were covered with a delicate shiny plastic skin, In any case I continued my path without signs of retreating. After several minutes of searching, that I felt as years I was finally able  to find something of my concern, it was a simple science fiction book I do not remember his name t, but its colorful and interesting cover was enough to give them my trust

I walked to the cash register, with the book under my arm, where an old lady attended me I gave her a bill and she gave me the book in a bag along with some coins full of rust and I must admit that like the book before it I read it as fast as I could by that point of my life I was completely in love with the books and wanted to read all of them that was my yearn. And as the years passed my love of books did nothing but grow, now I feel weird if I go too long without a book at hand now I read all kinds of books without distinctions and I am happy to enjoy this, since reading is a pleasure at border of extinction and it’s all thanks to that old teacher who opened the door for me to know different stories and to travel, without moving, to distant and impossible lands