When hungry,

paper covered in letters,

black letters to be exact

fill me right up.

There is no limit in my stomach,

writers, authors, illustrators,

even publishing companies

fill me up so I get plump.

They fill me with stories,

information about them

but they may be just words

or words with a purpose.

I rest upon the shelves so high

with all my friends of different kinds,

backpacks filled with colored folders,

in warm but sometimes sweaty hands.

People judge me by my binding,

age,author, color, and size.

You know they say not to judge

but everyone does anyway.