The Lonliness of Text

I lay lifeless here,
hoping someone will notice me.
My spine is ridgid,
holding everything together.
I sit here day after day,
hoping someone will take an intrest.
I can shout in my own way,
if someone pays attention to me.

I am more than ink on paper,
I can take you someplace else.
Stirring your soul at one moment,
making you think at another.
If only given a chance,
to be the guide once again.
I begin to wonder,
does anyone love a good book?