My small and quiet room is dimly lit
as the words along my plain white wall
cast long black shadows.

Each phrase has its own reason
to be up there.

Inspiring, poetic, humorous, or simply
something that doesn’t quiet makes sense
to me, not yet.

Sentences and phrases by unfamiliar
and recognizable faces fill my plain
white wall with the awareness of being
alive in this world.

They are words said by people who lived in a
different time. People who were once alive
in the same world as me.

The power of their words so profound that
they are being carried on to be heard
throughout generations of people.
To be heard by people like me who put
them up on plain white walls.

I scan over the quotes, phrases, and poems for
the last time tonight and turn off
the switch of my lamp.
The words linger in my mind: My subconscious
chanting them like a prayer, overpowering
the sleepiness.

Eventually, I slip away.

The words wait for me until
the next morning when they will
be drowning in sunlight that seeps through my window.