• I look at the shelf, the old books I used to read.
    Now what have I become? Confused with greed.
    I can't bring myself to tear them apart,
    Or throw them away or burn them. They're still in my heart.

    Every single page, a new word spoken.
    Tells of fairytales and of lives broken.
    Happy endings, good ones and sad ones, too.
    And yet some of these old books remind me of you.

    All throughout my life, I've loved to read.
    And yet now, I can't read. I seem to be worried.
    I know these books will be better given away,
    And yet my selfishness and greed gets in the way.

    I look out of my window, there's a little girl on the street.
    She looks slightly bored, but still sweet.
    I wonder, would she like something to read?
    No, not at all, has spoken my greed.

    An old bookkeeper such as myself,
    Could never part with the books on this shelf.
    And yet something pulls at my heart.
    Perhaps my sins I could thwart.

    I walk out of my shop, and to the little girl.
    She's just so precious, like a pearl.
    I offer a book to her, a smile on my face.
    She just stares up at me, she knew her place.

    "Thank you, Mister." She replied softly.
    "You're welcome." I replied quickly.
    I walked back for my shop, preparing to close.
    And upon my doorstep, an angel had left a rose.

    I had only done a good thing, or so I thought.
    A nice lesson I had been taught.
    I would give these fine books away.
    Perhaps I will tomorrow.