Murdering Ambition

it is an overgrowth
protruding on my forehead like a horn of a bull
its uglification of my being has become overt
and destructive
and so i have decided to cut it with a sharp saw
not to hurt myself
since its sharpness is inside the temple.
there is this content of the air
the one that drifts but for a time refreshes
the one that is with us when
the sun gets so hot
when the temperature rises
when the heat wave kills.
ambition, i am letting it go
since i still have many other good things to do
for you, my people.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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