Library Of My Mind Poem by Anya C

You are invited in the library of my mind
Don't know if you like to read
Come, sit by the mocha machine
Smell the bittersweet

I'll open up part by part
But the compartments intercede
Care not for the librarian
She's meddled up the neat

Drift in, swig in, it's heavenly dope
Evanescent is the waft
It still stores the perennial hope
Climb aboard that pesky loft

Smell the new books and the old,
And those frayed by time
Some foxed by confabulations
Some sooted with vile grime

There are aswell those that spew corruption
And those wherein some hatreds whine
Leave those & tread the isle of molly
And of acceptance and quiet chime

Since convolutions help compensate
Sorry, the writing is curlicue at times
They satiate the unrequited—
The complaints, and the gripes

There is a secret vault in the tavern of my conscience,
Therein, coffers safeguard a treasure
Whisper some sweet sesames of gibberish
The Reads reek redolence of pleasure

Pore through, you wouldn't be disappointed
The elicited all is true
The most you'll find is yourself
For I have written all for you

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