Library Of The Mind Poem by Randal Johnson
Library Of The Mind
So many dusty memories
Rest on such high shelves
That my stooping brain
Can no longer reach them.
And there are low ones too.
I just can't seem to bend down
Far enough to grasp them
As easily as I once could.
But some volumes remain
With dog-eared pages
Right here in the middle
That I still can reach with ease.
And so I will tell you
The same old stories
Over and over again
Until my library closes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/4/2024 3:55:08 PM # 1.0.0.1119
