Piles of books on books
Yellowing pages
That smell of rot and decay,
That's what we're,
Just books
On shelves,
On floors,
Piling one over the other,
Rotting,
Decaying away,
Our stories either read
Or lost forever
in the library piles,
That smell,
You're old and dusty
Before you notice
And that children's book
Has turned into some
Shakespeare tragedy ****
Except nobody remembers you,
You won't bore teenagers in school,
Tell me:
Are you read?