Waiting in the Library

Here I sit, waiting in the library

Waiting for someone to take me out, for a walk, for a stroll

To breathe in some fresh air, tired as I am of stale and musty air here in the library

But nobody comes

How I used to enjoy the old days

People moving in and out, students bustling about

Each looking for a book, for me or one of my friends

But they don’t come anymore

The nice lady librarian is gone too; leaving us all alone

And alone we are indeed

Its not just the loneliness that bothers me

Its that feeling of uselessness, that feeling of not being wanted anymore

It used to give me great pleasure before, when I could empty out my secrets, my knowledge to the one who borrowed me

But not anymore

And then, finally, after months and months of waiting, someone unlocks the library door

Walks around and past shelves, taking books out and browsing through them

And then it’s my turn

And he decides to borrow me, deciding after all that I have some information that might be useful to him

He takes me out into the big wide world

After such a long time, there is lots to see and stare at

And he reads me carefully, page by page

When he finds something important, he marks it by folding one of my pages

Yes, it is painful; imagine how you would feel if I folded your ear

But its ok

Dog-eared I might be; but I’m not complaining

It feels too good to be out…out of that old library