Pretty Smart, White Liar. Poem by RIC BASTASA

there is in them which
we will never have, perhaps fame,
but we do not really need this,
perhaps only perhaps

there is in us which they will never have,
perhaps, only, perhaps,
but we keep journeying through the night
and when we survive
the darkness and soundlessness
we become fierce as ever

it is this anger that feeds us
into life, but which, we perhaps, keep suppressing
love is love and it is what we say
even if, perhaps, we do not really mean it,
perhaps, anymore.

pretty smart, white liar.