Beware of those who read for pleasure.

As those who read are kind of weird,

Always on a lookout for something ‘new’

And who run miles away from cliches.

See that girl in that cafe?

The one with the book in her hand,

Already so engrossed is she in the story,

that already has she forgotten her drink.

See that guy on that train?

Be sure to let him know when his station comes,

As it is likely he is already transported

to some other lands of the author’s imagination.

He might be physically in the train,

But you never know where he is actually,

For all you know,

He might be meeting the love of his life under the Eiffel tower,

Or saving the President’s life.

He might be wondering around Hogwarts,

Or trying to support the one true claim to the Iron Throne.

He might have gone through the closet

And could be soaking the ancient wisdom from Aslan,

Or he might be on an adventure on his way to Mordor.

You see, those who read,

visit places inside their heads,

They are the creators, the nurturers of those places.

Do not feel bad if they prefer the company of books,

For you its just pages,

For them its their friends.

Those who read are strange creatures indeed,

They would question everything you say,

Yet, would give the world to visit their fictional world once.

These are the ones who have lived through it all.

The ones who are sponges,

Soaking in experiences of various Authors.

These are the people with high set of expectations

And how could they not?

They have known true love,

They have experienced true love.

In their minds.

Do not be afraid if you see them crying,

In the middle of the night,

Or being momentarily confused,

As they come back to real world,

you see, for them,

their world is as real as this.

Maybe a bit better, but real all the same.

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