To Find a Book

Kids in the street, they play their game,

Matilda doesn't do the same.

All alone in this big home,

Wandering the place alone.

…

She looks outside but can't go out,

With food she can't go without.

Time to bake and time to cook,

Follows instructions from a book.

…

Is this how children live their lives?

Left alone, from love deprived?

How can the children on streets play,

While she is busy in the day?

…

These cooking books and magazines,

They start to give her funny dreams.

These words give so much information,

But don't require concentration.

…

She wants more, to feed her mind,

To be challenged by works sublime.

Could these works tell different things?

Like stories of some queens and kings?

…

Stories like on the TV,

But with a different majesty.

All these stories, written down,

And where to find them in this town?

…

No such books upon the shelves,

The clock it strikes the sound of twelves.

Time for lunch, but different book,

The telephone, she'll take a look.

…

A place to find, she'll go alone,

A place a whole ten blocks from home.

A library? What a nice name.

From this adventure won't refrain.

…

So she passes the kids in the street,

Carried by her tiny feet.

She has a want, she has a need,

She'll find a place to sit and read.