Sometimes when I see all the books in the world
I get sad.
I get sad because no matter how hard I try
No matter how fast I read.
Some of them will be left behind.
Some of the blood, sweat and tears the writer poured into the book
Will count for nothing to me.
I will not know the exquisite detail they put in
Or the line that launched a thousand idea ships
And I won’t be able to tell them one day
I read your book.
Because if anyone tells you they read your book
It’s like standing on top of the world.
It’s like breathing cotton candy flavored oxygen as you float in a kumquat colored sky.
Books are pieces of the people who wrote them
And they become pieces of the people who read them
And there are some I will never know.
Sometimes, that makes me sad.