All Alone in a Library
The break and crack
Of the book bearing shelves
While on this floating mass
No one knows where I am
But no one knows to ask.
I am all alone
Feeling so horribly bad.
However,
The sound of people walking past,
Is all I have to last,
Me the day.
Me the day of writing,
Of whispering,
Of talking to myself.
I would talk to not only me,
But there is no one else.
I am all alone,
On my own,
Writing, Whispering,
Time goes by.
Slowly,
I am waiting to die.
poem by Mystykka Mysterious
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
