Burning Books

Alien to me, this landscape
I weep and bonfires of books
Burn in the middle of the street
And the sky is stubborn, mute
It will not respond to me.

All seeing- their gaze grips me
Embedded in my ear, in my eye
I have no nails to claw with
No mirror to indulge my vanity
I am their raw material

And the are moulding me
My stiffened neck, my obscured face
Are accusations. Along with the messages
On cardboard that float from the sky
‘We will never surrender!’ we cry.