A Year of Poems – Day 305

When the bookstores closed across the town
The shelves were empty and the curtains were down
It was a day that should have been filled with mourning,
A silence in lieu of quiet pages turning.
No it was a bustling roar that grew to a din
The sound of an argument with no words left in
The clash of a line left hanging and dry
With no resolution in the form of a rhyme.
The things that we lose when we forget how to read
Are not just the stories and professors in tweed
We gain a dark silence that yells in the streets
For the soul has no language and the heart only bleats.


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