On Compromises Of Life Poem by RIC BASTASA

most of all these that
find inside the palms of
our hands
are made of compromises
for one cannot have reality
painted without
the necessary colors, black
white, shades, yellows, reds,
pink, scarlet,

for how can you have sunrise
in monochrome?

one divides a wall between
evil and
good, between gods and men,
one fences out those who
disagree
excludes what they think
are rotten
tomatoes,

this is our world of odds and
ends, of
explosives and tranquility,
of doubts and certainties
of faith and trembling,

the tongue tastes every thing on
the table, weary of the sweetness of
these desserts and misses what is bitter
and sour

the whole of man meets the
whole of this world
and lives in it
on compromises,

he ages, dies, flesh and dust
skull and thought.