Re-purposed Bookend

Such a lucky thing you are,

Your job to wile away

Every spinning second hand

spent keeping books at bay.

Upon a shelf with titles tilted

Proudly on display

Collecting dust, forever must

You let them have their day.

The weights of worlds imagined

Pushing hard upon your spine,

You hold them in, but can’t begin

To wonder at their lines,

Sadly though, you’ll stay a brick.

That is my prognosis,

Unless you learn to read them

Through their covers by osmosis.