Treasure Island

RIC S. BASTASA


THEY call it family


not one less
of this family that must stick together and always save
one another, be it
whatever, a financial distress
emotional stress, societal imbalance,
technological displacements
the family shall be first
even in crime
passion, the family is one
in all conspiracies
not one less, each must be saved from shame
from destruction

i am tired of this,
i am getting out, i am now a stranger, alone
against this family, i speak my mind, i blow the whistle
now, kill me

i am a corpse, i have long been dead in the dark chambers
of this family
the secrets too deadly,

kill me now, i dare, only if you can....

Submitted: Friday, June 06, 2008
Edited: Friday, June 06, 2008

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (THEY call it family by RIC S. BASTASA )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

New Poems

  1. That There Should Be Flowers There, mary douglas
  2. Tetracty Dry Grass, Heather Burns
  3. On The Highway Of Life, Heather Burns
  4. Angel With Ferns In A Far Landscape, mary douglas
  5. Theres A Place, Heather Burns
  6. Plum Tree, Kyle Schlicher
  7. Suffusing My Heart In Sunrise, mary douglas
  8. A Promise Made, Kyle Schlicher
  9. Our Children, Heather Burns
  10. Going Home, Heather Burns

Poem of the Day

poet Henry Lawson


The old year went, and the new returned, in the withering weeks of drought,
The cheque was spent that the shearer earned,
and the sheds were all cut out;
...... Read complete »

   

Member Poem

[Hata Bildir]