Overflowing

The glass you have in your hand
Overflowing juice
On the white mantel

You laugh at me
I am filled with envy

And then you notice
The mess
Of this overflowing madness

You want to make things
Clean again
You take the excess
And throw them away

You rub it with rags
The stains are there and
You regret
These matters of
What you do not need

I wait
And inside me I too laugh
You could have given things away
Throw them all

If you only ask me
That was what I did when I was young
And too hardheaded

I’ve known what overflowing madness is
Once, twice, thrice
Almost I was destroyed
And I did the throwing before it was dark
And it was not too late
And I had no regrets

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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