Welcome to the library traveler.
Would it be rude to ask from whence you came?
Are you a warrior or a peddler?
You may ask, but I know not my true name.
I am called the caretaker of stories.
Whose stories? You may now see fit to ask.
All whom have loved or had fear or worries.
Guarding their knowledge is my sacred task.
You don’t see why they need my protection.
However, I believe in time you will,
For not all folks show books their affection.
You could explore, rather than stand and mill.
I see I’ve piqued your curiosity.
So now, you must choose, will you follow me?
I’m glad. You have made a very wise choice.
Remember, you can leave at any time,
Do not be afraid of that windlike voice,
The spirit of history likes to rhyme.
Please tell me, what is your preferred poison?
Do you torture yourself with tales of woe?
Do you like books on justice and reason?
Maybe you love the works of Mister Poe.
Perhaps you prefer tales of hope and joy.
I think I see in you, a kindred soul.
A book to us, is to a child, a toy.
Without these stories, we cannot be whole.
Although, not all people feel this same way.
Some, would burn all the world’s books in a day
