There are so many words unspoken,

volumes just waiting to be read,

but the hour is very late,

so very quiet instead.

There is darkness in the great room,

a scent of pages so old,

wisdom has a way of doing that,

perhaps something I have been told.

I enjoy my moments of midnight solitude,

in this place where quiet is so true,

I can shout out loudly late this night,

without being told what I have to do.

Millions of letters form millions of words,

but I am accompanied by only silence said,

there are so many words unspoken,

volumes just waiting to be read.

– James Spain II, for the Insider