Here once stood a social place.

To Shorewood's ol' bookstore.


My personal eulogy, an ode to a place of literature,

to a place of learning, speakers and writers.

A social place, a place for life and its significance.

Yet its own life could not be saved.

Can we forgive those we are commanded

to forgive for they do not know what they do?”

A new seed requires planting there, but will it grow.

Silence, only silence in this newly quited place.

To shed a tear over this new found emptiness,

this poorly understood place.

Those who knew its peaceful vitality that once lived here sense it no more.

We've known its culture, its life giving energy, now displaced.

The shelfs, its life blood vessels but now empty of blood.

Yet here always retaining its heartfelt meaning.

Here it now rests in its emptiness built of memories.

Here is life never again to be restored.

Here once stood a social place.

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