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The Flowers Of Compassion
i accept
emotions, who can disregard it
without getting
sick and so i accept all emotions as real
as my tongue
bitten by my teeth
and bleeding
as i taste blood
like
nectar from a
a tiny flower that you pull
with your
cruel hands
i am a bouquet of the yellow
flowers of
an emotional breakdown
the doctor who is a poet
writes that
poem
the heart shrinks like a fake
cloth from
the chinks
it is a drowning man who never
knows the hands that swim
in the body of a woman
i accept all emotions of anger and pain and
envy and
hate (that is as crazy as an erupting volcano
wiping out a town
from the face of the province
burying those who are still screaming
in a number of seconds
the town becomes a flattened rock
a steel plate still fuming
mad with
toxic smoke
time sides with me
the saints and angels come
in hordes and hordes
God points his finger to my heart
the flowers of compassion bloom
a new landscape is drawn
i am converted. i am new.
poem
by
Ric S. Bastasa
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