294
i ask the old man
of our neighborhood
sitting on a chair
in his yard
just in front
our house
as i water
the plants
in my garden,
his answer
is simple enough
'well, i like to die
because my friends
and classmates
are all gone, and
what use will this
life be? '
i agree.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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