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Monologue #6
the world is not a big white plain
not all green grass where your eyes would dance singing and
delighted
like a Mary Poppins.
there are so many mountains, sand dunes,
pits, volcanoes.
not all rivers have bridges.
so you leap.
and no matter how you try to avoid cliffs
the come to you.
and you fall.
and you die,
but if you do not die
then by all means
heal yourself
live....
broken, limping, hurt, so hurt,
and you want to die again.
the cliffs laugh at you
they do not come like servants
when you need them
most.
do you not envy me? look at me. All the pores of my skin
are smileys.
am i not funny?
you complain, you shout at me.
Liar! liar!
are you not too? You lie in order to heal.
you heal yourself.
Liar! Liar! Liar!
hello brother.
poem
by
Ric S. Bastasa
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