I’m in the library for a while,
Passing with myself the minutes between one and two.
But the silent zone lied;
In its quest to maintain a rarely found quiet
The disturbance of noise becomes more prominent than ever.
The tap, tap, tapping of keyboards,
The shuffle of coats, paper, the bracelets upon my wrist.
He dropped a pen, and in picking it up,
Scraped the carpet with his seat.
Silence will never be found here.
It is reserved for night time, bedrooms in the dark,
When even then a singing voice, gone 3am,
Wandering the street is loud enough
To break through glass, through brick and wall,