Scattered across the threadbare carpet,
ideals once held in high esteem
thrown down and trampled.
The work of a petulant child.
Mending the torn pages bearing values held dear.
Struggling to restore the broken bindings.
Paper cuts, bloodstains, and tears,
to rescue a life that's beyond repair.
Infuriating tomes! Destroyed beyond recognition!
A raging inferno engulfs
leaving only ashes,
shadows of the world perished.
Blackened and soot strewn,
halls once bursting with self truths,
made barren by the infection
and betrayal of selfish fingers.
Fragments of the past remain,
obscured and singed.
Gingerly reconstructed, missing pieces fabricated.
Nothing written in pen.
Methodically cleansed, shelves realigned.
Curtains thrown open to the pale early light.
A smaller but worthy collection,
wisely guarded from the hands of careless readers.
"Insomnia Sucks" Also by me
Infuriating sandman!
Partaking of your own product, I wager.
You're only 8 hours late.
The sun on the horizon,
Another night spent.
Where are you Mr. Sandman?
Are you out swindling* away the wee hours?
My eyes are dry and bloodshot
and the sheep have been inventoried, three times over,
but you're prolonging absence continues.
Are you a sadist, dear sand-bearer?
Do you find amusement in my plight?
How much longer will you force me to keep a steadfast vigil
of the fluorescent numbers that tick on
through the night?
Well, that's just fine*, you selfish jerk*!
Keep the hard-earned winks I seek!
Starbucks will provide a tasty substitute
for the solace you denied me
for $6.43.
*Title and poem edited for purpose of supporting a family friendly board.
I got more, but this is a start to see if I like sharing these online.