The stacks of books are silent now,

 as I walk through with jaded eye.

Where are your shouts of yesterday,

 as you called out when first I came.

To tell me of all the blood and gore,

 of which I relish, yet still abhor.

You told me of conflict when families meet

Sometimes even murder so very sweet.

But silent as death you are today,

  and I as well, have nothing to say.

For Poetry 101 Rehab:  Stacks

6 thoughts on “STACKS

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.