The Dot..... Poem by RIC BASTASA

in reading you like
a non-burnt book, listening
to your scream for truth,
i am encouraged to write
one poem, at least for this
day alone, about the truth.
i press my fingers on the
keys, only to see all of
them freeze, as though if
they had eyes, like nails,
they all would look at me
in the eye, or if they
had mouths too, they would
scream like you saying,
"burn, burn, burn the words! "
but the cold is too harsh,
and the principles froze,
and then the heart says it
all, " let all these truths
remain alive as they are,
and if you respect them enough,
keep them unwritten".

and that's the time that
i put the dot, the one that
you have seen, beforehand.