At The Last Hour Of Our Goodness... Poem by RIC BASTASA

there comes a time
when we wished we were mute

or blind
or deaf

there was a time when we
were happier
without anybody beside us

when we shy a crowd
when we feel great by just being

ourselves,

or myself for being myself
in particular for instance

when having all the praises
become too unnecessary

like shoes to my feet on the
sandy shore of summer

so many times when we feel
we do not need any umbrella under the rain

these are the ironies that we grab in a lifetime
when we lose only to find

when we quit because we have already
won that much

when giving becomes a routinary gesture
without doubt or hesitation....