Cured
and so the words
which he swallowed for years
and years
those that he chewed so well
turning liquid mixed with his blood
and spread in all his veins
and he was cured
and there is
no need
about what must be said
or should have been said
consummated the last sunshine
comes and
destruction of the illusions
have become inevitable
gone is gone
and bygone is bygone
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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