The Librarian

It was the color of tree I remember,
More than the smile and the flirting
of guys,
of lovers,
of those astrayand
of those in between.

Amidst the deluge outside
and wrath that Frank can only bring,
there were news of heavy thunder.

Putting into halt
the transport,
the plans,
and the flirting.

On stage I see faggots in changing colors and hues,
You admire the changes of colors and hue.

Wonder where they were from?

The colors,and the hues.

Like a nightingale you sang,
And made my swirling mind swirl much more.
I feel the spirit that only YOU can give.

I saw the emotions and smelled the leaves
of Acqua de Gio,
of cigarettes
and of liqour.

Then Frank, the librarian brought more havoc
and turned day into night.

The faggots stopped.

The fun halted.

You said we have to leave.
My heart yearnedfor more days like this.
If not for Frank, the librarian.

We may have not met.