RIC S. BASTASA
Luck - Poem by RIC S. BASTASA
he is in the middle of something
Choosing between slashing his wrist with a blade
Or firing a bullet in his head
In the middle ambiguities
What if the blade slashed his wrist?
And blood squirted on the Floor like a basin of water
Like falling tears On his cheeks
What if the gun fired?
And his brain spills on his chest
What if you did not call?
It is the middle of pain It is the middle of confusing things
Sometimes, it is the middle That saves.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You