16. Caged Books

Books cry from within our bookcases,
Their heads hung with shrunken faces.

They wait for readers to embrace them.
But alas! no one bothers to give a damn.

Years after years keep elapsing thus.
Only worms do adorn them and fuss.

They gather dirt and turn old and pale.
Caged long within walls they turn frail.

The painstaking inks from leaves fade.
The invisible tears from them cascade.

The knowledge and wisdom stay buried
Within those confines of the worth read.

Our eyes do pore over the virtual pages.
The physical ones die a death in cages.