27

see the path of life
in opaqueness, learn to breathe
through the eyes,
do not trust love that much
for it, like everything else,
comes and goes,
bliss, hatred,
rottenness,
each man stands
by the side of his doorway
and hides his hands
inside his pocket
some however learns
to shove or
hold their hands out
to be free.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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