Talking To Yourself Upon Leaving Poem by RIC BASTASA

there are those
who want an answer to questions
which answers they,
of course, already knew
but as foretold
or even forethought of,
they want you to articulate
the answer, they
want you crucified, like
a martyr,
and so you oblige, giving
the answer,
without the hesitation of
a goat under the rain,
and for which they laugh
at you behind,
where the petals of the flowers
are forcibly taken and
thrown away,
and you smile at them
remembering the curse that
grandmother once
taught you,
and then for days and
weeks and years
they will suffer without
them knowing the cause,
but as intimated by the
soothsayer,
everyone is karma bound,
and you leave them
and the place where
you were never happy in the
first place,
and you take everything with
you,
your shamed footsteps,
your unbending shadow,
and your crown of
thorns.