Once, I came home from school and sat alone on my bed
No friends, just books: fantasy & me together forever,
Just the way my parents raised me.

Slowly our friendship waned, replaced first by
Computers and changeable stories, then by
People and their oral stories. Lies. Much less satisfactory.

Now, on this cool night, I look distastefully at my bookshelf,
Wondering where the people have gone and why I feel so
Alone with these black and white written words
Unchangeable, intangible, untellable.

These are no longer friends, and I realize
Books too can lie about their meaning,
And you can't make them trust you enough to tell the truth.

12/20/2006