The Chant Of Boredom
i repeat words
and i have a chew
of my syllables
love
love
love
love
crazy this mind is
crazy
having gained all the years
and yet can still
mishandle an error
oft repeated
i have focused on the
form
and is misled by its
contours
its lines like labyrinths
of the confused
mind
in willingness
to be lost
to such a ecstasy
that cannot be
easily forgotten
the promises are
rains
beyond the paths
of the gutters
overflowing
there is this
collaboration to be
destroyed
a form of masochism
because of the
beatings of
the flesh
i rest upon
time
and pierces upon
the form
going deeper
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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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