My Library


Standing at the back
invisible to most and
hiding from the Gross
that provokes the weak
her name is called out
she doesn’t heed, looking about meek

“The Grade 1 book award goes to…”, she loudly repeats.

Oh!
That’s me, wide eyed and
looking sheepish in my
torn white dress with ink
stains, dotted like a Dalmatian
instead of acclamation after disbelief
laughter resounds making me
feel even more foolish.

On stage I make my way
to trip over the sound cable
followed by renewed laughter
I was able to right myself
to receive the book,
to drop the book,
and to look down on them
laughing louder, clutching their sides.

A legend was born that day
who belonged in a Comedy Club
not on the Award’s stage, year after year
the book awards to add up
which started my dear library
and as it’s known, the common
trait of the extremely Successful,
a library, they own.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem



This Poems Story

My library started as a cardboard box under the bed...It is now an inspiring collection of our collective knowledge