If Only They Were Alive

As I sat there stunned

On that rotating chair

I heard the books screaming loudly

They gave me a puppy dog stare

Their eyes gleamed

With tears that had welled up

I could hear their screams

They ran a sorrow club

Everywhere I looked, there was nothing but paper

That was tired of the monotony

Of the daily grind

Which was bugging it constantly

Innumerable sheets were stacked

Right on top of each other

There was no space left

Not even for them to shudder!

Tiny particles of grime and dust

Radiated on most hardcovers

While others blinted with their

Shiny plastic book cover

No one ever bothered to touch them

Not even the littlest

Unless and until they were obliged to

Open and read for their own benefit

Like teenagers who need "space",

These compilations of knowledge were cringing

Their howls were so raucous

My ears they were pinching

Their protestations kept boggling me

I was distracted by their screams

Even my focus was baffled

Why didn’t anyone care about their dreams?

"Even we have feelings," they said

"But no one understands;"

"The Almighty has sent you to spread awareness"

"Go do some magic with your hands"

"We need you to hear our voice"

"And spread it around"

"Please make some noise"

"This suffocating space annoys."

And that's when I realized

That I was imagining it all

but I can assure you

That with words big and small

The books would have whispered all of this into my ear

If only they were alive

With no regret and no fear.