Tribute to a Book (Poem)

Oh beautiful book, if that's what I should call you.
You're really more like an experience that I had one lifetime
'Cause it seems like another age ago since before I read your truth.
Your delicate pages that I pored through
Your pretty words that touched my soul
Fragile pages, or so they seemed
I never wanted the experience to cease.
Begin anew I can and read you again
Even though I already know how you end.
Don't we know how life ends though?
With the end of it, though we don't know how.
Like a book that you don't want to finish
Life should be that way, too
A pleasure to be enjoyed.
But you do know that the last page will come eventually
But who is to say if another book won't be started when my book ends
And the paper that makes me up becomes another book that just happening to begin?
Oh wonderful piece of literature, you,
With your writing so charming and wit to spare
How should I enjoy another book after you
And how pale they should seem when compared to your frame?
Even your binding and cover seem perfect
You're the perfect size, the perfect type set, the perfect number of pages
How then shall a summer reading compare to you?
You've ruined me it seems and I hate you for that
But that's not true either because I'll never forget you.
Marvelous marvel of words and verse
How poetic you seem and not just at first.
I long to experience your lot again
But I fear you are unique, just like a good friend.
I'll cherish you then, like I might this chum
And hope that to the charms of another book I succumb.
I'll search the rest of my life for another you
But I fear it is a search that shall never be through.