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The Sad And Painful Truths.
most truths hurt.
they are not guests.
they stay permanently.
they have needles and threads and fingers.
they sew your lips.
there is blood in your hands.
you cannot complain.
no matter how you shake your brain
to forget
these sad and painful truths stay.
they are bats on the branches of your trees.
aphids on your leaves.
soon these truths kill you.
and then
they all set you free.
gratitude comes at last
before you even say it.
poem
by
Ric S. Bastasa
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