The Bookstore

A place that no one knows

but me.

a never ending floor of possibilities

where you can ride a dragon

concoct a potion

become a pirate

or learn to fly.


Paperback books stacked on shelves,

an old man

a lover of books

of adventure

of dreams.


A place on the second floor

of an art studio

a forgotten love

that I call my own.

The End

1 comment about this poem Feed