My Books Have Been Disturbed Poem by Biff McGuire

Looking at the jumbled shelf, where notes of life are kept
I find a small disturbance in the fashion they have slept.
An open book, a page that's bent, misplaced upon the shelf
A letter there, broadcasting all the secrets of myself.
Who dares to cross the line I draw, and peers into my soul?
Then gazes in exposed and raw, my personal 'black hole'
The things I never wished to share, with any certain one.
Some hidden truth drawn from my youth, the damage now is done!
I can never file these thoughts again in a fashion that is right
Like organizing fireworks that dance into the night.
Another one of life’s high falls, one more emotional brick wall
A tale of love, or one of sin
Is floating now upon the wind
Telling all of wrong or right, to power point another fight
Then leaving all the fractured words,
I find my books have been disturbed