She May Not Come
she leaves at any moment
when she wants it and we
who are left live on our own
resources. We are sad.
In darkness we thrive.
Each sharing a slice of
pain. And then one day
from out of the blue she
comes and says, why is
everything dark? Why
black? Change it. That is
not the right color.
She does not have any
sense of light at all.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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