At The Reunion Party (Grandma's)
to drown my well-kept storm
i purge words
too many like bats driven from
a cave
flying on barbaric sounds
and one of you looks at me
with a stab
but it will not hurt me a bit
i ignore
whatever tries to hurt
whatever skins me out to reveal
a damaged bone
think of me
as a happy bee that is all i can ask for
this moment
i shall like it
for what you think
makes me become
what i am not
the hours will run like a windmill
and water pours out
to satisfy the mouth of the hill
and i will be happy to see
something filled
a thirst satisfied
you see i admit i am wrong in
trying to be alone by myself
in doing so for the past days
i shrink like
a plastic bottle
heated by
a candle
i realize the link
it is always a you and I
and the rest of the people in the world
my feet are your feet
my hands are your very hands too
my mind is a lonely planet
lost without the sun
and the rest of the lonely planets
in this always moving
universe
i know what depression is
and now i know how to delet it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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