An ode to an empty room.

By Abhinaw   

The striped leather chair, comfortable
Yet creaky
Is to me, a home
A luxury
I can ill afford
To lose

The fluorescent light bulbs
Glaring unfiltered
Shine on me
And on you
My faceless acquaintance
More of a companion
Deafening silence.

Disheveled
Shelves letting go
And
Holding on
To books
As I peruse
My hands
placed on the spine
Rummaging
Through

While the vents
Gently hum their melody
Harmonious choir
the echoes
Pervading
The entire space.

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This Poems Story

It's a poem I wrote about my local library room where I am always alone but never lonely.