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The Death Of A Revolution
i was once there
in that island of
questions
all questions
its shores in circles
do not have
any answer
i move around there
and i am dizzy
feeling the spin
and the effects of my own
self-imposed
revolutions
quite a decade
and all the children i have
were eaten by the big
hungry mouth
of the revolutions of my youth
my past
i preach a new
story now
times changed i tell you
and i am not left
like a step that
you have taken
there is exhaustion
there is an end
where our mouths knowing about the dying of the lips
have to tell
the truth finally
and you are not listening
with your gun in your
hand
listen! everything has changed
you must see
the new light of my dawn
i have no word for you
must you pull the trigger now?
poem
by
Ric S. Bastasa
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