The Message
o master, i get the point
i must write, and must make them
understand about a place that
is devoid of houses and trains.
o master, i get the message
i must write a poem about
a mirage, things that seem
to be, but are not,
i must take them to that place
of haze, and yet the flowers are
so real, that someone did not just
smell but take some petals to eat.
all of these ransom faces
they take for granted what reality
is all about.
It is the understanding that
things are better be left alone.
They grow without us, the grass.
They spin, without us, the planets
The sun stays in place, even if
explode our minds.
This the message, we are here
to drink the water
why do we have to make one?
why do we have to
explain why?
O master, let us live.
We have taken everything
for granted.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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