Hush little boy
Don’t say a word
This is a library
Not a battle field
Says the mother to the child

The child laughs and says
But this is a battlefield
These books tell of past glories
And terrible failures
Of how leaders rose
And how they fell

Here are the books that hold histories
Both the histories of what was
And what could be
Of how actions can touch the world
And decisions can change fate

I walk these dusty halls
And breathe in the smell
Of what these books hold
And the stories could tell
To learn the lessons held
Within these worn covers


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