Always, it is poetry time

Life is filled with work to do,
Always there is, with me,
Poetry time, an escape, like you
Were so tirelessly breathing
And then
Take a cat’s nap, in a corner
Of your mind on a frame hung
On the solid wall,
Always it is poetry time with me,
Otherwise, life is nothing but
One that is hammered with work to do,
Feeling like a funeral, like a murder scene,
& Without,
Poetry time, there is just a lonely face,
Reading and writing books and books
And serious looks in crazy nooks,

And where can smile be? Tell me.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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