I Was Once

i was once bound to the insecurities of my world,
and words are frightened to come out from my mouth

the fetters of thoughts that ask whom shall they be pleasing
too unhappy i rise from the rocks and split myself from its cracks

untrustworthy
the words are too enslaving and one by one their syllables
fall like nails from the pillars

words are not for building stars,
for when they look up the skies, they shall never find us

we are grasses spread on earth as floors of the gods
and we always creep

this is the greatness of us, cool and spreading
and free.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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