Guys are books.
They are read, finished and sometimes re-read.
I read it, I finish it and I never look back at another page.
So far I thought I've read all the books there were but perhaps I've missed one..


He has been a book I've never even came across; never read.
It was as though he was hidden upon the tallest shelves.
He's wild, unpredictable.. and who knws what.


These pages fail to bore me.
Do I dare to flip forward a peek at a few pages or do I savour the taste?
Am I wasting my time or am I discovering a new genre?
I wonder.. has this text mesmerized me?