Forgive Me (Kuno) Poem by RIC BASTASA

forgive me
more for this
as i never really
had the luxury of
the time
bowing my head and
listening to the
three candles
singing in the room
where the picture
of the recent death
is being displayed
for a week
and i find nothing
there to
give me the itch
of meaning.

i am more
into the candidness
of rudeness
the brusqueness of
realities
nothing about the
glasses inside
a glass cabinet
where china
is exposed
as an expensive
item to be saved
and kept but
seldom used
except on very
important family
occasions.

forgive me
but i like to reach
a point of this journey
where i am numb
where i cannot be
affected
by cries and pleas
where i cannot
be rusted by the
flow of tears
where i can simply
walk alone
in the park and just
be amazed with
birds and crickets
and lichens and
branches of trees
with a lush of
healthy leaves
and for which
i am never involved
and absorbed
like water to
a sponge
or rain to the grass
or milk being
spilled
in my cushioned
bed.