Endlessly Yours....

he promised to stop writing
poems,

waste of time he says

he breaks promises he has time to waste

so much time because the words keep coming

and it is giving him

all the pleasures

and when he reads what he had written last night

the following morning

when everyone is still asleep and when the kitchen does not have

any sound

of a fried egg or a whistling pot

he feels the hunger again

and there he is

eating poetry for breakfast

munching the words

chewing what he is in there

brewing

like strong coffee

that soon makes his heart palpitate

like drums

of the natives

recently capturing their first human meal

with all these facts at hand
how can he ever stop?

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!