Sonnet for the Library

By someone who wants to remain anonymous (Until someone gets it, of course).

A love of words had brought me there.

The place where color is found.

To each, a chance is found so rare,

To put aside this life of sound.

For each who looks, great works they'll find

With var'ying hues from gray to white.

And when the hues get in a bind,

Just shut the leaves, no need to fright.

For days, I took them and out,

And learned the knowledge they contained.

That place, it knows without a doubt

This wisdom ought to be maintained.

But flashing lights and sounds so loud,

Have left the colors to sit, unfound.