Emoticon.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

it is this pain
that has become the spring of
prolixity,

prolific have i become
these past few days of
helplessness

my hands have become empty
of its fingers
unable to hold a face of
my beloved

for i am left alone with
only a soul to talk to
for i am reduced to the ashes
of my own fire
for i am a city after the war
when all the heroes have
been executed

it is this pain that i bear
in the smiles of my silence
this suffering that not even
a mother can understand

it is this rain that pours
heavily at night that makes
me shiver to a wetness everlasting

i have not asked when will this stop
having become a masochist of love
having become another numbness to this
chain of indifference
this manner of unknown cruelty that
mankind has inflicted upon its brother
whose name it can never utter.

it is this pain that writes the words
that you read at night wondering
how beautiful have the words become
under the dimness of our both worlds
under the solitude of our partings.