Dispensable... Poem by RIC BASTASA
Dispensable...
in this house
dinner is served and
those who live here
can eat even
without me...
i can hear the talks
the spoon and the fork
in their chatter
the soup burps and
the knife pisses
off
no one calls for my
name
and i am just there
watching
defining what is
dispensable figuring out
why is this so?
it is like a movie
when they do not mind me
as they pass through
my body
am i a ghost?
busted.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 7:08:07 PM # 1.0.0.1119
