I Am Sorry....

so you really read my poems?
are you then
reading me?
are you going inside my
heart and mind?
are you a blood corpuscle now
traveling inside my veins?
are you another strange thought
on a journey to my
brain?
are there lapses or
synapses?
do you see my heart
beating inside
my body?

i guess i have to say
i am sorry

it is never me.
I am the other people.

I am the old man who
lost a house
I too am the old woman
who lost a son
in the war
I am too the child
abandoned in the street

Sometimes i am
the moon resting on the
bosom of a river

Last night i was the
sea breeze
refreshing drying the tears
of a woman
abused

Tonight i am someone else
that i met in the
street

soon i will choose
whether i should be a
carpet or
the tick

so will you still read me?

you want to enclose me
in my own work?

sorry, you called the
wrong number.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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