rAT 9
this morning i read about a red hen
laying eggs
above the haystacks
waiting
and there is this young writer
saying that
he is the hen and that his mentor
is the one feeding him
and that he is laying the eggs
and that he is waiting for
a surprise
know what? i get bored about
other people's ego
as though everything is about themselves
and that i must have to read
about them
crazy.
sometimes, i feel so angry
i like to kill that red hen that has not laid the golden egg.
i feel so humiliated sometimes
about self-centeredness
i like to let things pass and then
sit alone and empty myself like a bag without any content.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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