Is That a Library I Hear?

I that a library I hear?
The quiet serenity that everyone holds dear?
Out of the honk of car horns and distant conversations,
I feel the knowledge flow into me like a strange sensation.

The tips of my fingers brush the worn spines.
What stories do they hold? What could I find?
Anyone could stay here for hours,
Turning yellowed pages that smell like old flowers.

Who has read these books before me?
An old lady that lives all alone right across the street?
A boy who gets bullied for being himself?
A man that is overwhelmed with work and needs help?
Yes, probably all of those beautiful souls have been in this library before,
Seeking refuge from everyday life,
Wondering what the next chapter will bring
Instead of the strifes.
A library is a magical place that everyone holds dear.
And as I walk out of its doors,
I wish I could go back instead of walking forward into a world that is odd and unclear.