Dust Poem by Matthew Holloway

Dust lines the shelves
The old books left unread
For many a year
Their tales, stories forgotten
The soul of the author
Passing away into silence
Forgotten, what a horrible way
To be remembered, thought of
A name barely recognized
'Is that not the guy
On the old book there
The one on that self
I cant remember the title'
No that is something passing
For a few with little memory
Of what has been seen
Not heard or read
Just looked upon
Dust lines the shelves
The old books
Thick layers of dust
Gathered over the years