RIC S. BASTASA


for sympathy


since you married her
not for love but for sympathy
the gods agree
on some consequences

she will stare at you
and she will be nothing but
a ray of white light

you become the prism
to filter her soul
against the sun
your sympathy
shall spread her into
the many colors of
her griefs

soon she will say
that in the prism
where her soul passes through
there was no joy
there was no bliss

there was only this
little piece of happy moments
this pretense
not meant to last
her lifetime in the mask of darkness

Submitted: Sunday, June 22, 2008
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