Thursday, May 9, 2013

WhoWill

WhoWill 
WhoWill 

Who WIll photo SM-69708-5764_MEDIA_IMAGE_.jpg
Who will read mye poetry will there be a lieberry in the future of mankind where people turn the books like dimes spent in the slot will they find CharlaX in the melting pot of crucible so many more deserving people write the Asimov and the Heinlein will always be the ones the children want. Perhaps unheeded the book of CharlaX Prose sits on the very last row and gathers dust and moss. Will the last lieberrian perhaps just read the covers one last time and pause. Take down the CharlaX book with trembling hands long used to reading love. And he will never read another book because he fell in love with poem prose and the way this man writes things from his heart he started a reading journey that will not soon depart from start. What is the end of time but novels in our hands the sky shoots clouds across the day turns into night the flashlights come out and still we would not part with book for death. Depending on what is it about not the length for eye have read some very long books because eye was interested and life itself took second place the bed forgotton eye must keep reading Father Mother dear eye am going camping to sleep in mye bookreading again. Perhaps the lieberrian will find all the charlax poems so interesting he will make a light at nite perhaps a General Store left open in the holocost with a flashlight and several thousand batteries on hand after all he has the time. He handles each page with alacrity of age fingers start at the edges and stop and start in a paroday of confused moments meant to halt the passing of time and enjoying some one elses writtings oh to be able to write like this how does this man pen these odes of wisdom. Then one day the book of CharlaXProse falls from withered hands as the man goes gently to his GOD and life is gone. He sleeps like all the rest of them the bombs have come but for several days perhaps weeks a few months of time perhaps years had come and gone the death of falling bombs have missed the old liberrian. Long enought for him to find a reason to read and light the night. Read all the poems Who Will.