At The End Of The Day, You Just Listen

stepping inside the room
you close the same door
sleep on the same bed
but this time, think of someone else,
something else, nothing extraordinary really,
something lovely, and indifferent,
something about dreams that never come true,
those years, wasted time,
leaves that do not serve any purpose
falling on the ground, rotten,
gone.
you accept these as part of you.
and then you
soundly sleep.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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