When she was a child
is when she found her love.
She explored the stories,
and they fit her like a glove.
It was amazing,
how they kept her so entranced.
It was beautiful,
how her imagination danced.
But then came the characters
that had no fatal flaw.
Everywhere she looked,
her dull reality she saw.
Unhappy with this,
she read more and more.
She ignored those to close to her
and it struck them to the core.
She was too busy
in her grave of books.
Hiding herself away
in her secret nooks.
All there was
were printed words,
that flew around
like cartoon birds.
In the end she kept adding
to her collection.
Hoping one day,
Society would reach their perfection.

w.j.w.k