Insatiability

it is not a refusal to be full
it is just the emptiness that keeps on digging
there is a hole
inside you and nothing fills it
it gets deeper and deeper
and you fall
and you arrive at a chasm
without a solid ground
you float
like a feather on the wind
you are bound like a vine on a twig
you are not free
on this insatiability

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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