RIC S. BASTASA
the way we do things
may look easy. For instance painting
or doing a portrait may simply be a
stroke of the brush, a tapping of color here and
or to a woman baking a cake, it could simply
be a mixing of one ingredient to another
putting them in a molder, turning on the oven,
waiting, and then
you have a cake for everybody
or writing a novel or a poem or your biography,
it is just a scribbling of words, putting them on paper,
spontaneously not event thinking what next to write
and then putting a finish to the work
the children will be amazed and they will do the same
and when they grow up to be like us
they too will also amaze us without end
until we reach the point of dying
as easy as that
just closing your eyes and then not waking up anymore
but before that
you write a note, or perhaps on your last breath you
whisper to your confidante
' it was never easy, never'.
And the confidante
knows that too, but he will never tell.
with all these concealment, the song will go on
Life is beautiful. This world is a wonder.
Death is nothing but sleep.
Am i not right, after all?
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Comments about this poem (44337 by RIC S. BASTASA )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
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I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
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