The Irony Of My Existence Poem by RIC BASTASA

when we are on the plains
when i still suffer from those storms
you entice me
into having wings
designed
into a flight to the sky

you lay the rules
and i admit them saying
it's a deal
you have the numbers
and the
penalties

you say there is a mold
to follow
and if i were to succeed
i must obey
down to the last letter of the
law

i agree, &
i suffered more than
i expect

i just want to succeed
i burn my nights

i grow more days
seeding my years with more moons
spreading more stars
to my lonely
skies

and i go on top
breathing the peaks of winds at last
seeing everything
now,

it is beautiful
i am successful
i have achieved
your goals for
me


and then suddenly
you change the rules
you call me
i must go down again
to begin


i tell you again
there are no shapes
no molds

for the heart that strives
there are only
longings

i must tell you again
that i have done more
by not doing
anything

i have seen the truth by
not looking
at the rules

i have traveled more
by merely
staying
at peace with myself

no more wounds to lick
as i have cut my tongue