The Scene In Black And White Poem by RIC BASTASA

the sickness of our existence on the last hour
looks at everything as a movie trailer,
one scene to another flashing,

when these flashes end, you put your hands inside your pocket
keep your mouth closed, and then you look up, verifying if there is a new opening

an entrance where you shall begin anew
because in truth you want to live some more
live again

forgetting the first trauma years and years ago in one corner of that old hospital in black and white