Elocution At 3: 01 A.m.

adroitly
i, in the years of my confusion
have seen
the accurate face of
reality's
contours which i, have,
so gladly
taken, and you
who, have taken love,
so blindly,
trusting in the
safety of its hands
so gladly,
suffer.

i, in the soft
touches of
patience, as time
witnesses,
silently, tread
upon
the numbness of
feelings,
and so gladly,
accept,
all that there is,
on stretched
metaphoric imagination,
shall
survive, upon one
empty
glass to another,
on these
coffee days,
on dawning days,
rainy or sunny,
it does not
matter anymore.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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