I don’t know if I can handle being in this place much longer,

I walk to one side of the room and the feeling of death becomes stronger,

I notice someone staring watching my every move,

In one corner there is child bearing, what does the stomach have to prove?

I want to yell out all I have seen, but muffled be my voice,

A helpless mother a rebellious teen, but sound not a good choice,

There is a person cooking in one corner, and bloodshed around the bend,

Scientist researching, cryptic codes are ready to send.

A section for sex is at the other end, for erotic women and men,

But the middle of the room is where children nestle in,

I ask the King where do I go to get out of the castle gate?

Across the way I see Tarzan starting to get irrate,

So many people are standing within this very room,

Some there to inspire, and others there to seal a doom,

They still are watching with a straight face and a vengeful stare,

Some are clean and standing straight and some a visible tear,

There is a device in the room that can bring them all together,

The demons, kids and sexual ones, ones who bake the chocolate cakes,

and the one who makes the leather,

I want to take them home with me, but, it would take a giant crate,

But the watcher in my pockets, will be, if I bring them back too late,

I try to sit down with one person to understand,

But get quite lost when trying to listen to every woman and man,

The time has come when I should walk and leave the gates behind,

For I’ll return to grab another, perhaps listen over wine,

Who will I grab you ask?,

Why that’s quite silly of you!,

For I will grab up all of them before my life is through,

Imaginary it might be that last statement I spoke,

But I will take the producer while the woman back there soak,

Perhaps I might even snag Bruce Springsteen by his guitar,

Or take a spin and wear a grin with Jeff Gordon in his car,

No, I have decided that times not right for me to go away,

For if I am late again the watcher will have to say,

“ I told you once back when you were young that your imaginations wild.”

But do I have to speak once again?, you still act like a child!”

Bring the last person you took and return again for another,

For the last person you took from here you lent them to your brother,

And your brother needs to be I think,

Lifted up and shook,

So next time you come back I say,

Return your library book!

- E.F. Landeros “Life is an open book, do what you will, but will what you do.”