The Rashness Of Your Youth
your morning opens
with a popping out
mechanism
as though you are
the soda yourself
with all the bubbles
from your mouth
the froth from your
rashness
be calm, why should
there be a rush
for noon? why should we
be too worried
about nights?
let things come
let events savor their
existence
wait, stand still,
think,
ponder more
do not run.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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