Ode To A Quiet Library

I miss my quiet library
The soulful company
Of rows and rows of quiet books
and all I hear is me.

An introspective getaway
to shake the cobwebs free
To read and browse and acquiesce
to peaceful reverie.

The "Quiet" signs have all come down
to make way for the masses
They come to find a free playroom
And use computer passes.

They hug their babies on their laps
while screeching at another
One pulls the pages from a book
"Has anyone seen your brother?"

A cellphone blares across the room
It's more than we can stand
"Can you hear me NOW?" he shouts
And if she can't...we CAN.

Possibly a pedophile
is surfing something vile
He interrupts the library staff,
"Yo, help me save this file!"

The DVDs come crashing down
where a toddler has found steps
She wails but tries to climb again
No parent intercepts.

A conscientious adulterer
is fearful he might fail
He asks for help to cover up
His telltale paper trail.

It doesn't seem that libraries
should reek of burger grease
A "No Food" sign is underneath
a poster glued with cheese.

A homeless man hacks up some phlegm
His face is blank but glum
He reads a stolen paperback
with more dignity than some.

I miss my quiet library
the academic hum
I look up when a page is turned
Where did that sound come from?

I know those days are gone for good
It seems we've crossed a line
I hope we have the strength to save
our last "No Smoking" sign.