Poem: Subversive Words

Pages fall like rain
ripped out of their spines
to be scattered like the wind
far from the hands
of those who wish
to look upon their words.
Voices are muffled
ideas are stifled
never to see the light of day.
What beauty do letters have
and what supreme power.
Each character a building block
a stepping stone to new horizons
a brick in a sturdy building
a piece of stout wood in a bridge.
The match of a fire
scorches the foundations black
reduces the contents to ash
swept under the carpet
thrown into the sluggish river
of mediocrity.
Physical objects
to hold in your hands
but ideas cannot die
They will last forever
no matter how often
you put them to the torch.