Give me a book that is soft with age with the corners of its pages frayed
Give me a book that has gone yellow with time and has tears along its spine
Give me a book that was read by people long gone whose essence now lingers on its page
Give me a book that has proudly looked over generations from within an oak cabinet or perhaps one fallen in rank when a family went bankrupt and was peddled for far less its worth
Give me a book that was chanced upon by a little boy in a thrift shop and feverishly devoured by him in a night
Give me a book that was fondly remembered by a man as the book that defined his youth
Give me a book that has slept beside the pillow of a young girl now old who had written with her maiden hand her name on the corner of a page
Give me a book that once belonged to a scholar with notes along its margins
Give me a book that was held with both pride and humility by its author
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