Walking the aisles adorned with books written by the literati,

People unlike us,

We stop and admire:

Epics of prominent titles with prominent people about prominent lives wished private,

Filled with characters jealous of our simple lives, of our fatuous fables;

Epics read by ordinary people envious of lives with grandeur and purpose,

Of romances and affairs that changed history over and over,

And we long for the grand and they the mundane, but will always remained closed by covers.

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