This is the hall of broken limbs <br />Where splintered marble athletes lie <br />Beside the arms of cherubim. <br />Nothing is ever thrown away. <br /> <br />These butterflies are set in rows. <br />So small and gray inside their case <br />They look alike now. I suppose <br />Death makes most creatures commonplace. <br /> <br />These portraits here of the unknown <br />Are hung three high, frame piled on frame. <br />Each potent soul who craved renown, <br />Immortalized without a name. <br /> <br />Here are the shelves of unread books, <br />Millions of pages turning brown. <br />Visitors wander through the stacks, <br />But no one ever takes one down. <br /> <br />I wish I were a better guide. <br />There's so much more that you should see. <br />Rows of bottles with nothing inside. <br />Displays of locks which have no key. <br /> <br />You'd like to go? I wish you could. <br />This room has such a peaceful view. <br />Look at that case of antique wood <br />Without a label. It's for you.<br /><br />Dana Gioia<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/guide-to-the-other-gallery/
