- Non-Erotic Poetry
- The Shelve
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On the shelve sit where I been placed left to my own torment looking to see no way down curled against the books of time, forgotten as they are now. The loneliness is unbearable as I watch the people pass my shelve without a care in the world. Looking through tear stained eyes only to see the emptiness and unwanted like the toys of yesterday, once shinning and new only to be placed on the shelve
As I watch the book next to me lifted off the shelve as it is dusted off while they thumb through it placing it under their arm carefully, excited with hope that I might be next only to be discovered yet only disappointment set in. So on the shelve I sit as time passes forgotten and left to collect the dust of time.
- COMMENTS
demure101over 11 years agoWell thought out - the idea of unwanted books parallel to feeling unwanted.
