Whispers flicker,

With the turn of a page,

Rain beats down heavy on panes.

As I sip on my tea,

I hear a faint plea,

“Please sir,

Could you help me today?”

“Certainly sir, what is it?”

“I’m stuck!

And I’d do well to add,

I’m dyslexic as fuck!”

I hear a sharp gasp,

As his helper replies

“But knowing your language

Is primary!

If you can’t read or write,

With the gift of your sight,

Then why are you here in this

Library?”

I hear a low chuckle,

When the man starts to say

“In libraries, I tend not to dwell.

I try my luck,

And pick out a book,

As I do rather enjoy the smell!”