Book and pen lead my way.
I'm reading something everyday,
But for such classes I must read,
And in my happiness, they mislead.
For I do this not out of choice
Or out of pleasure in which I can rejoice;
Only in sluggish monotony,
My mind and heart betray their anatomy.
Are they not for ecstasy in things we learn,
Or a passion and emotion that hearts may turn?
And, so, I lay down down my book and pen
Breathing a sigh of release in my den.
As I face those that I use like a tool,
I can't help but smile as the soul speaks.
This book and pen make me the fool
Until I realize they are the friends I seek.