To The One Who Cannot Read Anymore.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

there is always that faith
in the silent nurtures of your heart that

i can be better than this
that i can do much better than that
the i am great

though you do not say it lest others
mistake it as arrogance

or conceit, or the hubris of the roots
of adamhood

the sin of confidence? the pride of independence?
the conceit of pandora?

there is this confidence that we keep that
we are good, and that we could do much better that we

are the best so far, but we do not say it,
we do not even write it, though

we show it in some subtle ways, a trick on ourselves,
a hidden truth, always not ready to be uttered,

but here i am, as always, i am,
without pretense, without a song, without a carpet,

proclaiming, i am alive and that is best enough for me,
and i still write

i have never told you and you will never have a chance
reading this.

it is my condolence.my sympathies.