Books are her soul, Through which her imagination strolls. After receiving all that hate, She chose books as her mate. She can't live without books, Cause she doesn't like the reality to look. As she reads so many phrases, It wraps her in a warm embrace. She wishes to travel to many places wide, And books help her lead where her dreams reside. She fell in love with fictional hearts, Who heal her broken parts. She doesn't have so many dreams, But always longed for a bookshelf that has so many stories to scream. How would she describe this to peeps, Who are illiterate scrap heaps. They mock her, “Why spend on paper?” But she knows those are her ladders. All she dreams of is a portal bright, That pulls her into books each night.