Friends of Washoe County Library

This dream I have

Working at the library

Is deferred;

I have no place to go

That is valuable,

And my place of recompense

Is shot

And all the dead roses die in denial,

Yet my favorite flower is vigilant;

How dare you reap what you sow so early

When the birds have not yet chirped?

I see a sad tree

And it is also in denial,

What bitter love has taken haste?

For this promise is livid

I can tell

For this poor little black girl

Is bummed,

I cannot remember

The promise that you made;

For the promise that you made

Is simply simplified.

And what's in a book

That has no name?

Can a star realize its shine?

Can I grow without bearing resentment?

Is it all out of shame?

For I bear my name

And I bear it proud

But we couldn't be all friends

For I am yet set apart

And dearest to my heart

Is the breath of a page,

A page that cannot tell its worth--

And all you book lovers

Do not change for me,

For I am happy and free.

I am happy and free

In my own little world--

A world that has nothing to do

With society.