I dreamt that you stole all my books, <br />Negating all the pains I took; <br />The summary of all my life, <br />My history of love and strife; <br />And dumped them on a used book seller, <br />The ones undamaged from the cellar; <br />How empty stood the wood book shelves <br />Denuded of my several selves; <br />Empty slots, blank empty places, <br />Wherein my life had left its traces; <br />To transport them you used my daughter, <br />Driving in the car I bought her; <br />How you smiled at my stunned face, <br />My life a barren dusty place.<br /><br />David McLansky<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/nightmare-198/
