Bibliophile

·         So many words to say…

None that come to my parched lips

So many sounds that ink link to my past…

None that fill the vanity of my dreams

·         Sitting by the window sill…

There are so many things I feel,

So many chaperoned thoughts…

All pleading to be free!

·         My head hung low…

Eyes blotched wet,

There are so many pearls…

Those wait to go forlorn.

·         The coffee in my hand…

Turns a pale shade of dirt,

The one sip that touched my lips…

Has its essence still lingering by!

·         Soon it turns dark outside…

The light fading away in a string,

But alas! Look how it fails to register…

Any sign of gleam in this prudent being!

·         The sun goes does completely…

Yet the tree stands firm,

With no morsel of pain or fear…

It testifies that there’s better time to come!

·         How I wish my life would be like the tree

Daunting and carefree would I too be…

With no tests to give, no scandal to deal,

Wouldn’t it then be worth a THOUSAND WORDS indeed??