The More Things Are Not Understood, The Better It Is To Be Likable. Poem by RIC BASTASA

relationships are
inversely proportional, like

what we say sometimes
we do not really mean, like

when we are angry, we curse
even the people we love, and

then, but then, when they die
their horrible deaths, we cry like

a river, and we miss them, as though
we too like to die tomorrow,

when we love, we put a break, sometimes
not to collide, in such speed,

and kill the innocent ones, who think
that we are careful enough, but

this is one thing, when by chance
we see our faces in the mirror, their

eyes, speak much about our true
natures, and then we begin to

filter, to sift grains from gaff, or
seeds from dusk, tasks from ask,

what i finally love most is my
freedom to lie, when i also have

to protect myself from you,
and in my sleep, i think how funny

this world has become, dignifying
fraud, loving shallowness,

lording it over, keeping hearts from
pains, making more mysteries, and

the more things are not understood,
the better it is to be likable.