Library

The mind is a library
And the heart is the fiction section...
Or maybe the buffer zone between that and the opposite
Because we all know sometimes books aren't always re-shelved in their rightful places

The mind is a sanctuary in that intellectuals, introverts,
And imaginative minds can find literature profound
And drink in the black-ink nectar sweet and slow like honey
To be later spread aptly and with smiles that wrinkle the eyes
Smelling like nostalgia and forming remnants of past dialogues
Because sometimes stories and lines never quite leave you
And deserve early morning coffee-in-hand chats of their own

The mind is a library
So take a book and read it
But for the love of all that is right in this world
Return them
Because while on one hand you could become the protagonist in the next addition
To the shelves
Far too often people hold on to them far past their rightful return dates
And sometimes never return them at all