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i will not be fooled by Prudence
i have seen the old man
die. His face spell regrets
and no matter how the funeral
make-up artist stretched
his slips, he never formed
a smile.
I know him.
He was during his younger days
a very prudent man
He observed strictly the codes
of restraint
and refused an offer of
looseness and being
free.
He prays a lot
and reports to God
all his misgivings.
He was a handsome young man
and women adored him
But he only had one wife
one woman all in his lifetime
who never sired
him a child.
This was his prime
misfortune.
He was erased from
the genetic tree
Forever.
His wife died ahead of him
and He prayed a lot
not to betray her
even when
more women still
are willing to sleep with
him.
For after all despite his age
he was still a man
with a lovable face.
Then suddenly he died.
Absurd. He died in sleep
A happy death perhaps without
the accompanying torture
of pain and
waiting.
But no matter what,
his face in that coffin
never shows
a hint of the joy
of eternal
peace, that inevitable
rest.
I know him
He has a misgiving.
He was fooled by Prudence.
He was a slave of
His own morality always fearing
what society may name him after.
He died a lonely man.
Erased by time.
Fooled by his own Prudence.
I look at him before he was buried.
And i made a promise with him.
I am not a fool and i will not be fooled
to suffer the same fate he had.
I will choose looseness.
Happiness. The one which is always free
Unrestrained by anyone else's code of Morality.
Subjective, as i have always known
it to be.
poem
by
Ric S. Bastasa
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