A hardcover gleams like treasure,
stitched spine, a sovereign throne—
but the price demands a ransom
fit for kings, not readers’ homes.
A paperback rests humbly,
light enough to tag along;
yet its corners bruise and crumple,
its proud back breaks before too long.
The ebook beams from nothing,
a ghost behind a glassy wall—
words without the wooden whisper
of a shelf or paper’s drawl.
So I stand before three portals
and grumble, choosing just one door:
gold too dear, dust too fragile,
and a phantom I can’t adore.
-
Author:
Matthew R. Callies (
Offline) - Published: January 19th, 2026 10:48
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 11
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments1
I have prized books since I could read and have many leather bound gold embossed classics the paperbacks I read and throw away. Not yet gotten to E books for the vary reason you cite. A lovely poem so well worded and metered a definite fave
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.