Not all the world has access

Not all the world has access, you know
To our Internet, papers and books
All of us need a friendly place
To browse and read and look

In the country bookmobiles used to round
But not nearly often enough I was so excited to go to school in town
Where we had a library with books in the shelf’s

There was a library at the college
And some in the schools
But the best was the public library
Where I discovered my best tools

It was open when I needed it
There were worlds to explore
I probably was the one
Who wore out their front door?

The librarian, god bless her wonderful woman she
Why that gal helped me find anything
She even helped me to find me

There is nothing like a library
Its aroma, its aura, its quiet
Towns that have none could help preserve those that do
So readers won’t cause a riot

There are places that are sacred
Our libraries, I mean
Please keep them in good repair
Who knows the discoveries that may be made?
From the shelf above or below the stair

Why, I can recall
When I was just quite small
Taking the highest book I could reach
Before I was out grade school
I had read nearly all

If many who makes millions could spread them around
Imagine what good they could do
Instead of just hoarding
And over the rest of lording
Then their hearts might lighten up too

Yet I’ve seen some who are simple oddly tight
Keep their dollars so close to their vest
In spite of the bulk that they bear many don’t care
To share a dime with the local depressed

“ I did it on my own.” Is the jubilant cry?
As the snap their wallets shut so quick
“ No one helped me, so why should I give?”
As they strut away, I wonder what makes them tick?

Why with their donations, taxes could be reduced
Imagine our nation
With taxes rationed
The image has me seduced.

Their charitable gifts might be written off
So their tax bite is less too
The schools, the libraries and historic places
Could be used and enjoyed for years, by them and me and you.