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.