For he who is without a book

Were I to come across a burning house,

and not stopping, the abode to douse

I would rush in to save as many books as I could lug.

Finding no books, I’d return with a big jug

of gasoline, and bone dry wood

To end the wretch’s life for good.

My first attempt at poetry.

And what if the poor soul loves his reading on Kindle only?

Too bad I say, man cannot live on Kindle alone…