A. Pope Poem by RIC BASTASA

A. Pope



YOU got your past world
a language of your own
to copy of which i have not
the slightest intention
They all call you a great man
that is something
i must be dumb that
i cannot understand

I have a language of my own
a voice that constantly
sings my own song
at night i keep it toned down
in my heart
there is no frown.

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RIC BASTASA

RIC BASTASA

Philippines
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