The Private Rooom
this is a universe in itself
with all the planets around it and stars so distant
unlike before you scream alone
no help comes
be it the fireman or the medical aide
now the fingers run
to places where we have been hiding
to thoughts where we have once surrendered
because of debilitating weakness
now courage is silenced but inside
its throat
thoughts shape themselves like dough
and then the yeasts of memories make them rise
you smell the sweetness of the past
that wafts in all the corners of your room
and so
with all these shortcomings and refusals
to see light
to open the shutters you shall still live
and reap the fruits of your isolation
these are white flowers that bloom
in lonely nights
scented and still proud
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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