Practice Poem 1: Hunger for Knowledge

This is the 1st poem I've written since elementary school, go easy on me.

A scrumptious spread of the most gorgeous bit of treats yet.  A new piece to the spread, a new flavor to the table, the familiar beside it acts as sly innuendos making the taste more lucid.  Certainly that  can't be all, I am keen for more.  I feel it, the barbaric hunger comes in, in like a turbulent wind or a gratuitous house guest. 

An unfamiliar library, a good place to purge such a ravenous hunger from me, libraries always serves up something new.  Aisle by aisle, lurking like a predator on the prowl.  With my peepers as my guide, they pierce though everything I have deciphered and consider indecipherable.  

Eureka, I've seen something marvelous.  A map of this library, a testament that will guide me to my salvation.  My hunger for knowledge begins to manifest through excitement, like an inflection the  tone of the hunger begins to change within me.  I want to laugh out loud in glee but I'd rather not be reprimanded by the the librarian.  I quickly regain some composure, calming down like a group of rioters being disbanded by the authorities. 

I find the fiction section on the map and begin my journey.  I look for little things that could pose as landmarks, anything to help crystallize this place into my memory.  The journey, which is literally a trip down a linear path down the rows of bookcases, ends as I've reached my imminent my destination.  I pick up a book I've never read before, open it and begin to read.  I can feel the erosion of the hunger that plagues me.  Although, after several moments the hunger begin to arise again.