10 Poem by RIC BASTASA
10
what i am
time erases from time to time
what i write
the letters fade and what
comes back to my mind
is the blankness
of the wall
i have no complain about
the ways of this
eraser
in fact
that is the way how i want
myself to be
fresh to the waking up
of all hours
new to every eyes
horizons stretching
without end
roads flying roads
birds with four
to eight wings
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4/26/2024 8:56:33 PM # 1.0.0.1119
